#i’ll be less active next month for time to myself and most of my posts will be queued

[rott1ngbra1n]

First off! I wanna go ahead and drop some fun art stuff I’ve been doing as I’ve been watching Dragons Rising season 2, which I’ve been loving!

I did a version of Arin before but it wasn’t my favorite so a redo! More AlleyCat stuff and obligatory Cole, because I love him.

I do have more Ninjago Art I want to do (Still need to finish that Cole and Morro friend piece-) and I have some other fandom art I also want to do, but I’ll explain more under the cut as well as why I’ve been gone or a bit less active everywhere. This is optional you do not have to read under the cut!

TW// Transphobia

For those unaware I am a trans man, I go by a different name: both online and IRL (online for privacy’s sake), I also work as a barista due to being a college student and needing to save money for moving away from my own transphobic parents. That’s a whole other story. But at work there was a coworker of mine who was consistently transphobic towards me whenever we worked together. It had been going on since June of last year (The irony of it starting during pride month made me and my friends laugh) but it escalated after I returned from New York, so much so I had to go to management.

Myself. Management had been informed by my best friend (who also works with me) about it and was told it was “gossip”. Ok. Sure- So I informed management of the new incidents and was told I had options, the first being to have a meeting with me, the transphobe, and my manager to discuss the issues. I said no so my manager went to the DM to find another solution. To give even more context, the transphobe couldn’t even be transphobic to my face most times it was always told behind my back to my best friend.

That’s how I knew my manager talked to the transphobe one on one, cause the transphobe right after the meeting went to said best friend. Telling her “not to tell me as she didn’t want to start drama” Cool, I feel so cool. I was very mad, went back to my manager with it, had that meeting with myself, the transphobe, and manager. Where my emotions were downplayed and the transphobe said she had “never interacted with a trans person before and didn’t know what she said was wrong.” OK.

SURE.

After that we assumed it was over, my manager made an incident report, but it didn’t stop the transphobe still kept talking behind my back to others. Despite me talking respectfully of her. More context all the talking behind my back happened at work while on the clock. After a while I just went about my day, then Ethics and Compliance called. They spoke to everyone involved, including me and I relayed more about my testimony. They said they would be investigating and I assumed it would take a while, then finally. I was informed that the transphobe was in fact fired.

This whole situation, along with other personal stuff going on with me, caused so much stress. To the point I tended to fallback into habits I had thought I fixed, mainly regarding my physical health. Even at points hating myself for just existing and having been born wrong.

I’m thankfully doing so much better now and have recently gotten diagnosed with Autism, something I knew I had but didn’t fully understand for a while. I’ve been getting better existing in a world knowing the people that are my blood hate me, knowing that eventually, I will never be able to be loved by my parents or sister. I have friends and coworkers who support me and I want to support other people in this community.

With that said I’m back to making more art! I’m building a portfolio for animation and to intern next year, I also will be trying to post more animations to here when I finish them! I also will still be active in the Ninjago fandom, I’ve loved this show since it came out in 2011 y’all can pry it from my cold dead hands-

But I do want to make more original work, I want to do more Star Wars work, QSMP art and animations, and more Musical Theater art whether it be Broadway or Indie productions. I hope people enjoy what I make, especially some of my original characters as I’ve gotten to work on Cybernetic more thanks to my animation class. You’ll see more of it as we go!

Thank you if you’ve read this and thank you for supporting me!

#art #my art #digital art #fanart #lego ninjago #lego ninjago fanart #lego ninjago lloyd #lego ninjago morro #ninjago #lego ninjago cole #ninjago fanart #ninjago cole #ninjago lloyd #ninjago dragons rising #ninjago dragons rising fanart #dragons rising #ninjago arin #life update

[bookscandlesnbts]

they must have been planning/talked about this for a long time since the application process starts so far in advance, and then they went on their japan trip so would’ve had moments alone nearer to the enlistment time so of course they would have private moments to talk, but it also must be so difficult when you’re moments from actually enlisting and there’s btb staff cameras, media cameras, parents and family, 2 enlisted members and everything! so overwhelming - the moment where JK rubs JMs head and JM looks away then back at him, and that long look they cut at the end of the btb felt so…. heavy

Hi anon. Get ready for some all over the place thoughts because honestly, I’ve been having a hard time. And I knew I would, but even trying to anticipate this and getting myself mentally “ready”, I am not ready. I was not ready to say goodbye to Jimin, to Jikook to any of the members. And I’m not fooled. 18 months is a long damn time. If it’s this hard on day 2, then I need to prepare myself. I need distractions. If I still get anons, and can come up with things to post, then I will stay active on here. I have no one to gush about BTS with in my real life and even less so now that they are all gone to MS. I made it 2 minutes into Jimin’s last live and then I couldn’t do it. He was devastated. He was holding back tears and we know from a decade worth of content that Jimin is not one to cry easily. He waited until the very last second to cut his hair. It really broke my heart to know that he has to do this and doesn’t want to at all. In fact, I spent pretty much all of yesterday and the day before crying and now I am having moments where I break down if I’m alone with my thoughts for too long. Don’t be fooled either. It’s not just Jimin. I’m furious that all the members and every citizen has to. That MS is mandatory. But I’m not going to talk about that or go further into my thoughts on it.

I figured it would only be a matter of time before we learned more about the application timeline, but I knew it had to be far enough in advance. If I had even known that a companion enlistment existed, I would have called it from Day 1 that they would enlist together, but I sadly can’t claim that.

I hope they got as ready as they possibly could. It seemed like the reality set in for JM and JK during their lives, and unlike some of the shittest most obnoxious parts of the fandoms (yn cis hets looking at you) that claimed that JK was going to be so excited to go and want to even stay longer, he wasn’t. He wasn’t at all. His live was short and somber. He also said that he was iffy about it. I know BTS didn’t want special treatment, and part of me is glad that they didn’t get it because of the uproar that it would cause, but it’s still awful that they had to do it at all. I have to trick myself sometimes into thinking that it’s not what it really is just to cope.

The way Jimin bent forward to JK showing him his head made me cry. He needed comfort and approval, and JK just rubbed it over and over and looked away from Jimin for a minute. I think he was overwhelmed too. Of course, he complimented him which was so sweet.

I’ll be honest, I’m pretty terrible at noticing footage cuts, but that one was SO OBVIOUS that if I can notice it, then it’s really bad. I can’t even speculate what was cut because I’m not creative but my guess is that they said something comforting and private to each other.

In summary, I hate this. I knew I would hate it. But it’s so much more painful than I could have imagined and I think it’s because JM and JK were both so sad in their lives. And don’t get me wrong, I’m so so glad they were honest with us. That’s how you know that they aren’t “fake” and “scripted” like some idiots want all of the members to be characters in a tv show. They are human and they bared their human emotional souls to us. And it broke my heart and it will for the next 18 months. I think about how long we have been without Jin already and it sucks so much. But we will be there for each other. We will try to have little joys and experiences. We will work on ourselves and improve whatever it is we want to improve or achieve. Or some days or most days we will just fucking exist. We also don’t have to do anything monumental or special. Existing is enough too. Existing until 2025 when they reunite.

[wingsyliveblogs]

Hello once again, everyone! Thanks for being so patient as I’ve repeatedly failed to pull myself together and return to blogging. But no longer, I say! It’s time for Wingsy Live Blogs to live up to their name and do some liveblogging! 

So, I have some bad news and some good news. The bad news is I’m still not entirely sure I’m in the right mental state for liveblogging, because I’ve been struggling with motivation in general... more or less for the better part of a year now. But the good news is I’m trying to return to being active regardless, because I’m starting to worry that if I wait for the “right time” to start blogging again I’m never going to get back to it, and I really want to watch more Owl House! I want to see what happens next, and I want to meet all those characters I’m vaguely aware of but haven’t yet encountered in the show itself!

So, the remainder of this post will mostly be dedicated to the observations I had when I rewatched Episode 7 several months ago and never got around to posting, and I’m going to skip most of my observations on episodes 5, 12 and 15 for the time being, with one exception that’s going to get a post of its own, because it’s actually the one thing that caused me to put my liveblog of Episode 16 on hold, so I think it’s pretty important. Following this post and the next, I’ll be picking Episode 16 back up where I left off.

Without further ado, my observations from rewatching Episode 7:

Now that I’ve seen a little bit of these kids’ parents, I’d be willing to bet that the twins picked up this whole "tough love" thing from them - the mother in particular seems very much like the “it’s for your own good” type. That said, I haven’t yet gotten to observe the entire family dynamic, so I can’t be certain at this point.  

Ah, I forgot about this line. Fun!

The most important thing in this scene, though, was obviously the offhanded mention of Azura’s “goth phase"...spur-of-the-moment lie or the actual truth? And more importantly... foreshadowing or innocuous statement..? 

You know, I do wonder if Luz's little doodle implying she wanted to impress Amity that she drew in Amity's private diary that she absolutely would look at later did anything to endear her to Amity, perhaps leading her to trust Luz was being genuine? 

Actually, now that I’m thinking about that, I’m almost surprised it never got brought up afterwards... or maybe that’s why a drawing of Amity’s ended up in the book that she knew she was going to have to return to Luz..? Hmmm...

Assuming Otabin is a Boiling Isles-only literary figure and that Luz had only just learned he existed, it's really cute that she addresses him as "beloved work of children's fiction" based solely on the knowledge that Amity and a few kids she doesn’t know at all are fond of his story.

Even having rewatched, I’m still unsure how Amity figured out what happened to Otabin?? It's not as if he was targeting Luz from the start - he went after Amity first - so did she just notice what was on the book when seeing him grab Luz, and then maybe assumed that Luz did it or recognised that Luz was in a better position to fix it..? 

Considering this line, and then Amity's sad look after Otabin vanishes... I wonder if she’s thinking about someone else she's not still friends with. Probably a stretch, but you never know!

#wingsy liveblogs #wingsy watches owl house #owls ep 7 #had a dream about liveblogging a few days ago #and took it as a sign #(which it very much was in context - some dreams are just like that) #the longer I'm not liveblogging the more time I have to get spoiled #I've already skirted the edge of a whole lot of spoilers over the past few months #to the point where I'm almost too embarrassed to list them out and may choose to instead just note them when they become relevant #I don't think any of them are super big - or at the very least I don't have enough details to be able to discern that #so it's prooooobably fine. probably.

[stellahikaru]

State of The Starry Path Hotel #2 (February 16th, 2024)

Hi, it’s Stella Hikaru again and I’m back to give another State of the Union Starry Path Hotel. I’m back at it again for the second week in a row and hopefully I can maintain this consistency. As I stated before, the main point of this blog is to hold myself accountable about my content creation journey and keep track of my progress and growth over time. This post is going to be a lot shorter than last week’s blog (and hopefully will take less time to write up) so now let’s get started!

Mini Life Update

I need to be honest: school is kicking my ass. I’m getting to the point of the semester where I tend to be the most stressed. Exams and assignments are piling up and it feels like I’m falling behind more and more. It does not help that the most important assignment of the most important class I’m taking is due next week so I am stressing over that. In addition, I am actively looking for a full time job for after graduation so I can pay for my own expenses. 

Besides being active on Twitter, I haven’t been really doing much in terms of content creation because of my schedule. I really need to limit my time on Twitter because I do not want to become a VTweeter and honestly that time is better spent doing more productive tasks like making videos.

Content Creation Progress Update

On the topic of content creation, I didn’t finish all of the goals I set out for myself this week but I did finish one: I made myself a VOD channel and uploaded my past VOD. No I did not make a spelling mistake, past VOD. Remember when I said I downloaded all of my VODs? It turns out that clicking the download button on a VOD in the video producer doesn’t automatically download them and I was too tired to notice! So several of my VODs are lost forever! Oh well, to be honest I feel like my earlier streams are not very good so I guess I’ll have less to be embarrassed about later? I’ll just be more careful next time and download them once I finish my stream for the day. 

This Week’s Goals

Make a Carrd for Twitter and Bluesky: I wanted to do this last week and I did try to start making one on my stream last week. Then I abandoned it and I figured I would get to it later in the week. That did not end up happening but I will make sure that this gets done this week.

Make ideas list for YouTube videos: I have ideas for what I want to make for YouTube videos. I just need to write them down. This week, I’m going to take some time to make a list of ideas I want for YouTube videos and choose one I want to make first. 

 Limit the time I spend on Twitter to 1 hour per day maximum: I have noticed that I am spending a lot of time on Twitter on the guise of ‘vtuber activities’. While I need to maintain an active presence there to grow, I’ve noticed that I have been spending WAY too much time on the site. So starting this week, I’m going to start limiting my time on Twitter to 1 hour per day maximum so I can spend more time doing stuff that is actually productive.

This Month’s Goals

Make 1 YouTube video (or prepare to start making videos next month): Based on the way things are going in terms of school work, it is very unlikely that I will make a YouTube video in the remaining time in February. However, even if I don’t end up making a video this month, I can still set myself up to start making videos next month by brainstorming ideas, learning how to record and edit, writing scripts, etc.

Look into ways to take donations: I did some cursory research into donation methods and I’m leaning towards Ko-Fi. Also apparently Ko-Fi and Buy Me a Coffee are different platforms. The more you know. I still need to do more research about fees, privacy, and stuff though. Once I build up a little bit more of an audience, I’m thinking of setting up a Throne as well.

Continue streaming once per week and try to do guerilla streams: I currently stream once per week on Saturdays and I want to maintain this consistency. However, I want to see if I can do some guerilla streams during the week since I will need to stream on 7 different days in a 30 day period to get Affiliate on Twitch and with my current schedule, I fall short of the requirements. (Yes I copied this from last week don’t HBomb me). I don’t think I can do guerilla streams this week but I’ll try to incorporate them in the future. 

This Year’s Goals

Get monetized on YouTube: I want to eventually make money off of my content so I’m hoping to get monetized on YouTube this year. This is going to be a tall order, but I hope I can keep working towards this with my weekly and monthly goals!

Become an Affiliate on Twitch: I think this goal is a bit more achievable compared to getting monetized on YouTube but I still need to meet the requirements. I will also be working towards this with my weekly and monthly goals! 

Gain 100 followers on any social media besides YouTube or Twitch: I actually am over halfway to 100 followers on Twitter as of writing this, but I still don’t get a ton of engagement on my post. In addition, most of the followers I have gotten are those annoying GFX bots and it’s a little bit disheartening. I also want to build up a following on Tumblr and Bluesky as well! 

Make a community Discord server: Once I build up a community, I want to create a Discord server for people to hang out in. However, I want to wait until there is a demand for a Discord server. This goal is lower priority compared to the other goals but I hope that this does end up happening this year!

Final Thoughts

Schoolwork may be eating up most of my time, but I’m still going to keep running the hotel! I’ll keep working towards my goals and hopefully I can accomplish more this upcoming week. I’ll be live on Saturday at 2 PM EST! If you like what you see, make sure to reblog this post and follow me! I would also appreciate it if you follow me on my other social media, especially on Twitch and YouTube! I will be streaming on Twitch tomorrow at 2 PM EST! I hope your stay was bright and your journey is filled with light!

#vtuber #indie vtuber #black vtuber #virtual youtuber #en vtuber #the starry path hotel #starry eyed vtuber hotelier #i need to stop procrastinating #I have an assignment due at 11:59 halp

[dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt]

Hey.

So, it’s been a while. I have a lot less energy than I used to and I’ve found that being online is extremely bad for my already struggling brain. I’ve really struggled to keep up any connections I used to have, even though I wanted to and I felt extremely guilty for struggling so much with just talking to people. I feel like I’ve become a completely different person in the past few years. I guess I kind of outgrew Tumblr and I felt like I was a fraud when I couldn’t reach the same levels of energy and enthusiasm to behave like I used to and I felt like I didn’t belong here any more and that I was a disappointment, but I still think about all of my friends on here a lot and I’m really sorry I faded out without any explanation, it was never a deliberate choice, time just did time things and all of a sudden it’s been years and I felt too guilty and ashamed to come back, like I was being kept prisoner by my own skull raisin. I still think about you all and I hope you’re living the wonderful happy lives you all deserve and that the world is being so, so kind and gentle to you. I hope you find new happiness and love every single day. I still love all of you with my whole heart and soul and I’m really, genuinely sorry for leaving like I did, I hope none of you were worried and I hope you didn’t miss me.

A life update is that I’m doing okay, even good. My partner Josh and I are still going strong, we’re planning on getting married in the next few years, and I’ve been flying over to see them regularly (I’ll never stop being grateful that I have this opportunity.) Their apartment is yellow and we adopted a very big plush Bulbasaur son together and we cuddle until we fall asleep every night and their smile and their mind make me reach a level of happiness I genuinely did not think I was capable of and they have helped me find who I really am. Loving them is the easiest and sweetest thing I’ve ever done. I’m planning on moving overseas to be with them after we’re married (paperwork + residency reasons.) Their friends have welcomed me incredibly kindly into their group and their city is a world I want to live in and I feel like I finally know where I belong. I have finally, finally found my home.

Other updates. My pets are getting older and we lost Maudie, I still miss her and I’m scared for the others but I can’t do anything but love them. With my partner’s help I realized that I’m most likely autistic and I’m hoping to get officially diagnosed once I’ve moved, but not before, because a diagnosis could get my residency denied. I have a steady job with very nice coworkers/friends and in general I’m a lot less scared of life and I’m actually excited for the future, even though I still have very hard days, weeks, months. I have a lot more confidence and love in myself. I own a shirt with rubber duckies on it and I adore it with my whole heart. I have two tattoos named Frank and Louisa and I’m hoping to get more soon. I make very good soup. I’ve learnt to draw, I still have a long way to go but it makes me happy and it’s therapeutic and also how does lighting and shading work oh my gOD-

If anyone wants to reach me at any time, for any reason, my Discord is awshucksalright#7140. It’s one of the few sites that I don’t have a mental block with so I’m usually active on there, but I am a different person now so I understand if you don’t have a drive to, there’s no expectation. I just wanted to make a post to give closure if it was needed because just dipping like I did was super shitty and I wish I could take it back but at this point it feels too late and I don’t know if I have the energy to come back again any way. I have been lurking like a weirdo on your blogs to make sure you’re okay, I should’ve just reached out, I don’t know why I didn’t other than my brain not letting me, it felt like a wall and it still does. It was nothing any of you did, it’s just my own brain being a dick and I hate it and I wish I could change it. I don’t want any of you to think that you weren’t/aren’t important to me because you always have been and always will be. Your kindness and friendship has meant the world to me.

I don’t want to say goodbye so I’m not going to, I don’t want to close that door because I love so many of the people through it. I just hope you’re all okay and that life is treating you with all the amazing-ness that you all deserve. I hope you all feel warmly and gently hugged.

I love you. 💖💖💖🐰🐰🐰💕💕💕

#Matt speaks #I'm so sorry

[jacqthehermit]

Art Summary and Art vs Artist 2022

2022 Art Ramblings and Other Shenanigans:

A.) I am not speed

Whenever artists wanna try something new to improve their art, we tend to make big drastic changes right away. This can be effective for others but not for everyone. As you can see, my art style is still the same as last year with minimal tweaks.

I decided that if I'm gonna make improvements, I'm gonna do it gradually instead of incorporating them all at once. This can be a big help in maintaining consistency. If the changes were small, we can easily remember and apply them on our next artwork.

“So is it effective? Did your art improve?”

It’s barely noticeable but yes it did. I like the direction in which my art progress is currently going. I am at the point where I actually like my finished work more than my sketch. You know that meme where artists like their sketch more than their finished work bec it looks better? I don’t feel like that anymore and that surely tells something haha.

B.) I failed successfully

Last year, I made a pseudo new years' resolution where I said "I hope I can draw my ships, anime and original stuff" since I mostly did Genshin. Well, I successfully drew my ships, anime and original stuff this year HOWEVER I made less videos lol.

I tried doing 1-2 artworks in between videos but sometimes the artwork took me longer to finish so I wasn't able to make video content afterwards. Another thing was the fact that I sorta dedicated some months tryna help save our country but in the end we failed miserably... Anyways! Let's not talk about that here.

Even though I made less videos, I managed to make 2 impactful videos which contributed a lot to my channel's growth this year. One of them is now my most viewed video. 

C.) I wanna delete everything

Checking other artists' IG accounts makes me want to turn my account into an art only account. But then again I know I'll be having the urge to shitpost and post irl stuff every now and then so as much as I wanted to be one of those mysterious artists who only post/talk about their art, I can't lmao. 

I feel like there's a lot of pressure on the artists who only post art related stuff bec people will always be expecting you to post art or even if they don't, you yourself might think they expect you to. And this kinda contributes to being burnt out somehow. 

Whenever I am on the verge of deleting everything (except art) I remind myself that it's fine even if I ain't one of those cool artists accounts. I am human and I do other human activities too besides drawing. It's like taking a breather I guess. 

"Make 2 accounts, one art and one personal"

Not everyone has the capacity to manage 2 accounts in one platform when you’re already managing other accounts on other platforms. Even if you did, most people who followed you for your art won't give a fuck about your personal one which kinda defeats the purpose haha. 

I know this is not applicable to all artists, especially the professionals/veterans. But for hobbyists like me, maybe you should consider this. I am not forcing you to post personal stuff bec I know not everyone likes that. I'm just saying that it's important to emphasize every once in a while to your audience that you are human too and not just an art producing machine. 

D.) I miss time traveling

Long time ago, during my Deviantart days, I used to type a bunch of shit in the description box of my artworks. Then came the Tumblr era where I continued to blog my heart out. When these platforms "died" and Twitter and IG migration happened, I slowly stopped doing this without me noticing it. 

I still say things on Twitter but since there's a limit and making threads is a pain in the ass, I ain't as expressive as before. And these platforms (Twitter and IG) made me adapt to its "culture" of short tweets/captions or sometimes nothing at all, just pictures. Which was great! I mean not everyone needs to know your entire business on the interweb right lol. 

But as time passed by, I began to realize that I love backreading (I dunno if this is the right term) whatever shit I used to talk about in the past. It's actually amusing no matter how cringe, happy or lonely it was. However, since transferring to Twt and IG, I can no longer go back to a certain period in my life to reminisce what the hell I was thinking, doing and feeling that time because I got nothing to backread and that made me kinda sad?

Even though I am still bad with words, I am trying my best to resurrect my old self here in IG (just less cringe and more careful this time). Don’t worry I am not going to make long posts everyday lmao.

"Nobody's gonna read all that"

True. HOWEVER my future self would and I think that's more important. It's the same as writing in your diary, you write for yourself first and foremost.

“Why don’t you just go back to Tumblr to blog”

My time on Tumblr has passed. Whatever good or bad memories I have there, I just wanna keep them as they are and no longer add some haha. I still love the platform and post my artworks there tho.

Conclusion:

Art progress and channel growth did great this year. Tho I fell short in terms of quantity of my video content, the quality compensated. I am not gonna make any pseudo new year’s resolutions this year. All I can say is I have a lot of ideas and I hope I can execute them.

Before I end this, I just wanna say hi to my future self. I know you’re reading this again for the nth time. Maybe you’re feeling sentimental or just bored as usual haha. Nevertheless I hope you’re doing well.

Happy New Year everyone! Stay safe and see you on my next video~

Jacq out.

P.S. Fuck AI generated images. 

#genshin impact #kaeya #yae miko #venbara #yaeyato #naruto #jimin #jin #shaman king #xiaolumi #chilumi #jacqthehermit.drawing

[i-like-gay-books]

lately been seeing a lot of pushback against the pushback against intellectual elitism, crying anti-intellectualism, and there are a few reasons this is bothering me which i’m going to try to list here to the best of my abilities all in one sitting because otherwise i’ll forget to finish it:

1. the whole attitude against consuming “easy” media like marvel or mainstream movies or books, etc, is intellectual elitism no matter how you sugar coat it. im not saying it’s intentionally malicious, in fact i believe most people doing it are unaware they’re doing anything at all. the thing is that privilege can affect you in many different ways, and the level of media you are able to consume and have an enjoyable experience with is one of those ways.

i am very well educated in language and writing, so reading experimental stories where the syntax and turn of phrase is almost more important than the actual plot or characters is easy and even sometimes enjoyable for me. however, i have next to no media literacy when it comes to films. i can watch something more artistic or experimental, but i likely won’t understand it even close to the amount i need to in order to enjoy it. it would take a lot of effort to fully understand and even if i got to the point of understanding it the effort it took would make the experience much less enjoyable.

i hope i explained that well enough. it’s kinda hard to put into words

2. it’s ableist. full stop. i’m not even joking here i saw someone seriously type out and post something that said people are using this callout of intellectual elitism as a way to hide the fact that they’re all just “jocks who don’t play sports.” that doesnt directly relate to this point in particular i just remembered it. 

yes, less artistic or intentionally intellectual/ thought provoking pieces of art are easier to consume. speaking as someone who has not only dealt with chronic burnout myself but who is part of a generation of people living day in and day out with chronic burnout, sometimes easy media is all i can handle. by which i mean, most times. and its easier to consume again. and again. and again and again.

burnout is just one example of course, many disabilities can cause a lack of energy to devote to activities that are for leisure. and even without disabilities, humans are meant to rest. nobody wants to be thinking critically or philosophically 100% of the time.

3. communities are much larger surrounding mainstream/ easy to consume media. obviously that doesnt make it more worthwhile, but it does come with its own certain set of benefits. also you know what mainstream fandoms have a shit ton of? fan work. look at fan fiction and fan art and fan theories and tell me those people are not thinking critically and engaging meaningfully with their source material. just try to tell me. 

some people work better with more hands on, creative pursuits. my favorite subjects growing up were always math and english, because there was a way to be involved, and not just be told the answers, the story. science and history never offered me that, at least not as openly. learning styles are different, and just because we’re talking about a leisure activity here doesnt mean that fact changes or becomes irrelevant.

this is just me word dumping onto a document because i didnt want to hijack a post at 12:30 at night, but these are a few of the reasons this “anti-intellectualism” accusation has been leaving a bad taste in my mouth for the few months its been going on. feel free to add on or ignore or whatever, i dont really care. i just needed to write it down and get it out there.

#anti intellectualism #intellectual elitism #media #disabilities #burnout #media literacy #privilege #cloudy rambles

[bunny-rambles]

Hey friend, I just saw some of your other asks and I wanted to chat with you. As a writer on this platform, I empathize with your struggles. The fine balance of making things and sharing your thoughts is delicate, and I very rarely post anything personal because I've learned they don't get seen as much - which is fine, that's why you make friends who can and will listen :)

As for the posts, I wish you could see how incredible you are for even making content!! It takes bravery to do it once, and courage to do it again. With the Fandom getting wider and less active, it's going to be dead space out there but it doesn't mean you aren't a worthy writer.

(I've learned over the last year doing this, you have to set some personal markers to reach. If I get 100 notes on a single character post, I'm stoked! (It doesn't always happen, trust me some of my favorite works have 45 notes on them) and if I get 200 notes on a multiple character post I'm pumped!) I've had to retrain my brain this way but, honestly, it makes me feel better about myself.

AND, instead of the numbers I go back and read old works and say, "wowo, I've improved so much!" (I'm here to make stuff yes, but I also want to get better at what I love - don't let writing become something you hate. Don't let low note counts dictate your worth. You are making something wonderful! trust in yourself and eventually you won't mind what your post looks like because you'll be working on the next one that's even better!

I know it's hard out there, being a content creator can feel lonely, so don't hesitate to reach out. You are more than your blog, live your life and use this as a place to get better at your craft !!

Rooting for you!!

- hazel

I have reread this, and reread this, until I couldn’t cry anymore because I bursted into tears when I read this for the first time. Truthfully, I didn’t want to respond, just keep it safely in my inbox so I can read it when I’m feeling at my worst, but that wouldn’t be fair.

Thank you so much, Hazel. When you put things into perspective, I actually feel a lot better about things. You are absolutely right, there is dead space now for most creators within this fandom, and I always forget that. I mainly forget when I see creators still getting an insane amount of notes.

Another thing you were right about, I got caught up in the numbers, and that was the one thing I really didn’t want when I started this account in the first place. Writing is something I’m passionate about, something I cherish and use to convey my emotions that I keep locked up. I should’ve never focused on the attention it got, but when you’re in this community, unfortunately it sometimes becomes inevitable to compare yourself to other works.

I actually do set little goals !! If it gets past 50 notes, I usually consider it a success and I’m very happy about it usually. I should stick to it but sometimes I just let my head get the better of me. I’m working on it,,,

It’s strange though, one of my favourites I’ve written was a piece for albedo that’s barely passed 80 notes, and it stayed on 30 notes for a good four months. I think I wrote that so well and I really liked how i did it but it’s gotten the least attention. Some of my least favourites have the most notes. So I understand not getting past the goals. But maybe I should take your advice and just hope I write better for the next time.

It’s surreal to see you telling me that you’re rooting for me, when I was inspired to start this whole thing from you and your kindness. You’re truly an exceptional human being and I hope i continue to grow closer to you. Sorry for never reaching out, I’m just incredibly nervous/shy around mutuals in fear of annoying them - I’ll try and work on that too.

Again, thank you. So much. This really cheered me up after this awful week I’ve had <33

#bun speaks #buns moots !! #hazel !! <3 #thank you <3 #I’m going to reread this when I feel that way again #it really helped

[thekleesh]

Hey what’s up Tumblr it’s been a little while

I haven’t made an actual post besides reblogging my girlfriend’s art on here in a good few years and I figured with seeing how Twitter is doing these days, now might be a good time to post a big-ass update.

NUMBER ONE:

My YouTube channel is doing well! I just posted this big huge sexy video about emulation and why you should do it and why it isn’t illegal (if you do it the right way). I’m super proud of it. Check it out!

In addition, I have uploaded a few other videos since my last post that I think (most of) are pretty cool, so if you enjoy this one I implore you to give the rest of my channel a shot.

Here’s one of my favorites.

Here’s another one for good measure.

NUMBER TWO:

Since my last post, I have also made a significant change to the way my streams are broadcasted. Up until last month, I used Twitch for all of my streaming endeavors. I did decently well for myself, met some great people, made some amazing friends, and even received a handful of payouts. I already made a big announcement video going into greater detail about this, but the short version is I am no longer on Twitch. I decided I didn’t like splitting my attention between Twitch and YouTube, so I have fully moved over to streaming on YouTube. It was a big change considering how long I’ve been on Twitch, but I am confident in my decision.

If you would like to see the farewell stream I did announcing all of this and going into greater detail as well as answering some questions, that’s right here.

NUMBER THREE:

I have been doing art still! I don’t do it particularly often, but I have a couple pieces I’m willing to share with you today. I’ll likely make separate posts for these later on, but I’ll stick them here in the meantime to make my post look longer than it actually is.

The first one is Marie from Splatoon! This is part of a collab I did with @skyeroxy where she sketched both Squid Sisters, and we each painted one. I am incredibly happy with how the collab turned out and I think I did a good job with Marie. I would hope so, because she’s my favorite.

Earlier in the year I also took a crack at drawing Captain Amelia from Treasure Planet. I rewatched the movie on a whim one day and each time I do it only solidifies the fact that it’s my favorite animated Disney movie, it just doesn’t get old.

Once again, these (and a few others) will get their own posts probably later in the week.

NUMBER FOUR:

Just kidding there isn’t a fourth point. I would just like to reiterate that yes, I will likely be more active on here than I have been. Even if Twitter doesn’t fizzle out in the next few days I really enjoy the much more relaxed atmosphere that exists on this site, so I’ll probably spend less time on Twitter and more time here regardless of what happens.

I have two blogs, there’s this one and my side blog.

I will reserve this blog for serious announcements like videos and maybe stream alerts (which will be deleted after the corresponding streams have concluded). My side blog is for frequent reblogging of things I enjoy like video games, memes, cool art, you get the idea. Basically retweeting on cocaine. If Twitter really truly does go down in a pit of flames, I’ll use my main account (this one) to post random bullshit thoughts and opinions and jokes and whatever else I do on my Twitter currently.

Aaaand for good measure, some links:

YouTube (Main Channel) // (Live)

YouTube (Stream Archive)

TikTok (FUCK this website I just post clips from my streams on it)

Twitter (A bit redundant to put this here but hey, it’s here)

I am technically available on other sites, like my Twitch account is still around, but these are the ONLY ones where you’ll find me active in any capacity. I still use Twitch but only as a viewer these days.

I’m working on a new public Discord server as well, I’ll post the invite to that when I feel it is ready. It’s coming along.

Alright, that’s it. Thank you for reading.

:]

#thekleesh #update #youtube #twitch #tiktok #twitter

[tdcloud]

Ruari Character Overview (blog#9)

Good god, where has the year gone? It’s already August and it feels like New Years was like, a month ago… They say time flies when you’re having fun, but to be honest, time never moves faster than when you’re juggling deadlines and praying for a few extra days at the end of the week just to keep caught up. July was definitely another month of me trying to get myself caught up, and while marginally successful in that regard, I’ve still got a lot I need to get working on to be in a good place come October. For that reason, let’s keep things simple this month and do another character profile. 

Ever since I posted the Corbet profile I’ve had several people ask for a Ruari one. I held off on it for a bit since I just didn’t think Ruari’s profile would be as interesting as Corbet’s—after all, Ruari’s backstory was explored pretty heavily over the course of Deluge and Apricity. He had a lot more screen time, and his past played an active role in the events of the series. I figured there wasn’t a whole lot more to tell when it comes to him, but I don’t know, maybe there’s some tidbits of lore hiding in the recesses of my memory that’ll give you guys something new to learn about him!

Let’s get to it!

I suppose I’ll start with some general fae lore since Ruari being fae in my world building inhibits the concept of a “childhood” the way Corbet had. If you guys recall, there’s the concept of a “Spring” in the series as a sort of origin point for fae. It’s called that because it happens in Spring but also because fae “spring” into existence. I don’t think I ever got more detailed about it than that—as we’ve covered in previous Tempest deep dives, I didn’t plan this series as well as I would today and therefore didn’t bother coming up with particulars or specifics on what “springing into existence” entails. In vague terms, it’s meant to imply that every spring nature spawns new fae. During Petrichor we learned that sometimes nature makes mistakes, such as the Twins’ situation, but for the most part, it’s a normal, natural process that births new fae into existence a handful at a time.

If you've ever been curious about Ruari’s birthday or zodiac, I’m sorry to say that information like that doesn’t exist. He was just one fae of maybe half a dozen born around the year… 300 C.E.? Maybe 400? Again, I’ll have to apologize because it’s been so long since I’ve thought about Tempest minutiae that I’m not positive if I ever specified how old Ruari is. I know he’s younger than Aisling and Avenir by a fair amount, but still very old compared to most fae in the time of Corbet’s inception into the story. Brontide is set in the mid-1400s, if I recall correctly. I know he’s at least a thousand…?

What I can be more concrete on is his life AFTER his creation. Ruari joined the royal guard. He had to work his way up the ranks like anyone else, proving his merit as he went, and it was there that he met some of the familiar faces that survived the centuries at his side, namely Corin and Gali. He would have met Eolande there as well, though Eolande was older than him and already established within Aisling’s ranks—though not yet her personal guard. That occurred after Eolande countered an attempted assassination contrived by Unseelie insurgents when the treaty between the Courts was far less stable than it became in “modern” times. I’m only mentioning Eolande in a Ruari overview because we own them for Ruari getting the chance to prove himself as a military leader. It was Eolande who, after rising up to become Aisling’s personal bodyguard, nominated Ruari to fill their position in their stead. 

After that, it’s fairly present in canon what happened next with Ruari. He established himself as a captain of the guard, earned Aisling’s personal trust, and was well loved among his soldiers. When the war between the Courts and Milesians broke out, he was on the front lines from day one with his army to stop the enemy’s progression towards the Courts. While so far from Aisling, he had an unrestricted view of the banality of the war they were fighting, of the pointlessness of it, and the sheer amount of death being wrought all the same. At some point you hit the point of no return—there’s a cost sunk fallacy reference in all of this somewhere, and it spirals into the situation we see so clearly on display in Deluge. Aisling called to surrender and Ruari couldn’t stomach the thought after all the death he’d seen. He staged a coup with the remnants of his loyal army, slaughtered those who opposed him, and crowned himself King in hopes of reclaiming the world above the Sidhe. 

The thing I still really like about this series—and specifically the dynamic between Ruari and Aisling—is that everyone makes the best choice they have at the moment of truth. And yet, it’s still always the wrong one. Hindsight is a bitch. Aisling saw her own horrors and simply desired to spare everyone from further ones. She capitulated and reaped the consequences in turn. Ruari saw his share of blood and despair and desired to find meaning in all of that sacrifice, to honor those who had died by continuing to fight on. He rebelled, usurped, and realized quickly enough that there was never any chance of winning the war—but by then, it was too late. Everyone makes their choices and learns that the ripples of fate are far more disruptive than their own limited perspective ever could have led them to believe. Corbet himself carries that theme, too. The events of Brontide and his spiraling mental health in Petrichor showcase for the reader how badly these sorts of decisions ferment in a mind unaccustomed to living with an eternity of guilt one one’s shoulders. 

But let’s get back on track. I originally came up with Ruari’s backstory and overall Vibe while researching Emperor Constantine. He was sent into Britain with his army to fight alongside his father, one of the members of the Tetrarchy (a group of four men who served emperors of Rome). After his father died, his army declared him Emperor outright. They served under him and fought the civil wars that followed, emerged victorious, and saw Constantine crowned sole Emperor of Rome. I wanted to capture in Ruari the sort of person you’d have to be to inspire such faith in battle-worn soldiers. It was treason they asked him to commit by declaring himself sole Emperor the way he did, and their faith in him was so strong that it was worth the risk of him failing. You’d have to be a special kind of leader to inspire half of what those soldiers felt towards Constantine. I tried to make Ruari that kind of person, or at least my best attempt at what I thought I could manage. 

Ruari, at his core, is a soldier who yearns for the light. He takes his duty seriously but was well known as a flirt and heart-breaker before his ascent to the throne. After that, he lost a lot of his levity. I didn’t write Brontide with enough pre-canon in mind, and therefore lost a lot of my chances to make Ruari’s perusal of Corbet more meaningful than what it came off as, but I do want to stress now that Corbet was the first mortal Ruari ever stole, the first person he’d tried to romance with any sincerity since he became king, and was generally just the first chance Ruari took on attempting personal, selfish happiness after his stint in war, usurpation, and the killing of his kin—and then the failure to bring about the change he killed to attempt. What we see of Ruari in Brontide is a glimpse of the old Ruari before everything went to shit for him. I think that’s why Corin and Gali were so intent on helping him, so supportive of Corbet’s presence there, and so determined to keep Corbet alive when Avenir launched their assault on the Seelie Court. He’s the first selfish thing Ruari’s let himself want and they wanted him to have it without being punished for the attempt.

I wish Ruari had more of an unseen backstory to divulge, but given how the story went, he had a lot of his life told on screen. Hopefully, that was still interesting for some of you, and maybe there was something new learned? If not, maybe this next segment will shed some light on new corners of Ruari’s character. Let’s move on to some fun facts and fan submitted questions from Instagram, Twitter, and Discord!

The name “Ruari” translates into “Red King” and is one old spelling for the name Rory—it’s also pronounced the same, so sorry for all of you out there saying it some other way XD 

Ruari’s love of baths comes from his time spent in the field. He couldn’t bathe much then and it’s his number 1 way to relax and destress

He’s 6ft 1 I believe… maybe 6ft 2, something around that

Despite being a soldier, he doesn’t have a ton of scars that show through his glamour. Magically inflicted ones tend to be easily enough to cover but ones caused by metal or inorganic material are harder, which is why Maol’s ring wound showed until he consciously put effort into hiding it

The real reason why Tailan dislikes him isn’t necessarily Ruari-specific, but just a general aversion to fae inclined to trickery/deceit. It’s after he befriends Corbet and sees what Corbet goes through that he gets outwardly and directly antagonistic towards Ruari—though a portion of that is just Tai being jealous of Ruari getting Corbet’s attention XD and that street goes both ways

He’s too guilty to sleep with fae which is why he sticks to mortals

As you’ll soon learn in Hiraeth, he’s a bit of a bridezilla

Onto questions:

Why doesn’t Ruari have long hair?

Linden, my effervescent flower, how many times must I tell you? He doesn’t have long hair because he’s a soldier and because I don’t want him to XD No matter how many times you draw him with Disney princess hair I will not change my stance on this! Go play with Avenir or Eolande’s long hair!

Did Ruari choose his human like “glamour”? Or can he look any way he wants to at will?

I’ll answer the second part first because that’s the easier question: He can look any way he wants at will, but the further he departs from his current form/size/limbs/structure, the more effort it takes to hold and the more taxing it’ll be to maintain. If you recall in Deluge, he only managed to make himself blond while in the Unseelie Court. That’s a demonstration of both glamours taking effort to pull off but also the limiting factor of being surrounded by Unseelie magic—the most he could change was hair color. Corbet, on the other hand, was able to fully change his gender, hair length, and body type while surrounded in Unseelie magic because he is technically an Unseelie fae—or was, at that moment in time. Aisling managed her disguise because she’d incredibly skilled magically and also insanely old. Hopefully, that makes sense and puts it all into perspective. A lot of the magic in these books is based more on Vibes than hard and fast rules, but at its core, a glamour is a glamour and can let a fae take any guise.

Now, as to Ruari’s appearance… that’s more complicated. Fae tend to base their looks on their own idea of personal aesthetics. Unseelie embrace inhumanity and Seelie tend to live closer to mortals and therefore tend to take their forms into account when sculpting their own, and any “inhumanity” that bleeds through typically looks more nature/plant-like than the Unseelie’s animal-inspired shapes. Ruari does have a “true form” that isn’t what we or Corbet see, but he’s shaped it into our handsome redheaded king because that’s who he views himself to be. He’s been in that form for so long that it doesn’t take much effort for him to maintain now. 

Please don’t ask me what he actually looks like XD I am not creative enough to begin to design something like that.

Has Ruari ever been malicious to humans because of what happened in the past?

Since I know the person who asked this question hasn’t read enough of the series to know the answer to this, I’ll just say that Ruari’s antagonism towards humans was mostly expressed during the war with the Milesians and a few years after that. Once he realized the futility of the situation he distanced himself from mortals at large until the strong emotions faded and let cooler heads prevail. I’d say once several generations had passed he wouldn't have held the bad blood earned in war against those who weren’t involved. The Seelie are tricksters, not malicious neighbors. If they’re attacked or given just cause, they can retaliate or protect themselves, but they don’t seek out humans anymore to harm. 

Does Ruari let other fae have human pets/partners?

Oh lord, no, not his subjects at least. He has no issue with them going above to trick or find lovers or what have you, but he doesn’t allow them to bring mortals below—at least, not Irish ones. There’s a section in the treaty following the war that forbade fae from either Court from purposefully seeking out Milesians or their descendants for malicious purposes. The reason Ruari took Corbet was because he heard Corbet speaking French and realized he wasn’t a native mortal. That prevents Corbet from being protected by the treaty, and therefore free game. Given how militant most Irish-folk are about warning travelers away from dangerous/fae areas, what happened to Corbet wasn’t common and only Ruari would’ve had the balls to turn it into a kidnapping. 

Now, the Unseelie on the other hand… Well, stuff about that will come up in Hiraeth. 

Ruari’s always been a favorite of mine. I think it’s becoming a joke amongst my friends and fans alike when I say I like “disaster redheads” best, and it’s just so real. Writing Deluge let me really get into Ruari’s head and show just how much he feels and cares, how he compartmentalizes to stay sane, and how he’s always finding new causes to fight for, even if death is on the table in return. I think back to writing Apricity when I had to write the chapter where Aisling tells Ruari that they’re surrendering the war, and just… God. Seeing how bloody and broken he is, how hard he tries to summon up some of his usual levity for Aisling just for her to crash the roof down on top of his head and destroy what little faith he had left in her… I made so many missteps in the process of writing this series, but there’s still so much buried in the characters and their decisions that I can’t help but adore. Ruari is the epitome of what I love most in  my fiction: flawed people making decisions and then being forced to live with the consequences. I fell in love with him alongside Corbet in some ways, and I pity him in so many others.

How do you guys feel, though? Ruari isn’t even remotely close to my most contentious love interest I’ve written—that’ll have to wait for whenever Navidae’s overview happens—but there are a fair share of comments I’ve heard from people who either hate him or love him. I think he’s a moron, but one I can understand. Do you guys like him? Are you team Aisling like my artist Sun XD Or are you team Corbet like the vast majority of my readers seem to be? Chime in below, let me know, and as always, until next time!

T.D. Cloud

P.S. 

I suppose I’ll plug my patreon again here and entice you guys with the knowledge that I have a lot of non-canon/canon scene studies, extras, aus, and scrapped smut scenes involving Ruari, Corbet, Aisling, Avenir, Shea, and Breena on there, as well as annotated chapters and all of the story outlines and chapter notes I used while writing the full series. For as little as $1 a month you can have access to my backlog, $5 will get you all my writer’s extras, and anything more than that will just get you into my good graces for the rest of eternity XD Check me out and help support what I do in between book releases! https://www.patreon.com/terminallydepraved 

#author blog #ruari #the tempest series #character lore

[romansleftshoulderpad]

Yes, share the news. Share links to petitions or ways to donate. Don’t stay silent.

But also don’t guilt people who need a break. The death and the riots alone are already a heavy topic but on top of a pandemic? Share information, please, but by God let people rest.

Remember: A chorus can hold a note for an impossibly long time because individual performers are allowed to take time to stop and breathe. Activism should be the same.

#you can be anti racist and still value your mental health #social media has been a nightmate because of the pressure to be posting about this 24/7 #black lives matter and so does not burning yourself out #i’ll be less active next month for time to myself and most of my posts will be queued

[alpacaparkaseok]

Could you repeat the question?

pairing: Taehyung x reader, oc x Yeonjun (TXT)

premise: a joint interview with your group, BTS, and TXT two months after you met your soulmate.

word count: 2k

[2/2] continuation of Can’t Keep My Hands To Myself

requested by anon - a picture of your request will be at the bottom of the post! 

------------------------------------------

“Please don’t tell them.”

“Me? Why would I say anything?”

“You...you have that look.”

Yeonjun whirls around to face Taehyung, who just entered the room. “Do I have a look?”

Taehyung winks at you in greeting, something that nearly makes you swoon and your group members snicker. 

“A look?” He frowns for a moment before giving his dongsaeng a pitiful smile. “Oh yeah, you do. Definitely.” Taehyung smiles at Jiwoo, my band member who is busy sending death glares at her soulmate. “He’s gonna spill it.”

Yeonjun jumps up from his seat at the same time Taehyung settles down beside you, placing his arm on the back of the couch and brushing your hair off to the side. It’s enough to make goosebumps rise on your skin, which of course he notices. 

Oh, how you’d like to wipe that knowing little smirk off his face right now. 

“I can’t believe this! I’m not going to say a thing-”

“Yeonjun, and I’m saying this with love, if you say a single thing about it, I will personally unplug your refrigerator when you least expect it.”

Your attention is pulled away when you feel Taehyung leaning in to whisper something in your ear. “So, do we know what they’re arguing about?”

You can’t help but giggle. “Nope. Jiwoo won’t say anything.”

“Neither will Yeonjun.”

The smitten couple have been teasingly arguing for the entirety of the morning, leaving the rest of us in complete and utter confusion. 

Oh well, I suppose it’ll help make the broadcast a bit more exciting. 

It’s been two months since Jiwoo and I first *ahem* teleported to our soulmates at the MAMA awards. Or rather, since I landed in Taehyung’s lap and Jiwoo was nearly knocked unconscious when Yeonjun was thrown into her at full force. Of course, Jiwoo claims that it was horribly embarrassing, to which I’m always quick to say that she should feel lucky that at least she didn’t end up in a grown man’s lap. For all to see, no less. 

Ari, our other group member, just rolls her eyes and tells us that beggars can’t be choosers. 

Yeah, whatever that means. 

The past two months have been busy, with hardly enough time to spend with my soulmate. Between the busy schedules and BTS and TXT and our own schedule, we’ve had to settle for late-night FaceTimes and the occasional lunch at the Bighit building. I’ve become really good at sneaking in and out of that building in broad daylight - so far I have yet to be discovered. 

Today, however, is an important one. It’s our first official schedule together as soulmates. Naturally, all three groups have come together for the interview/variety show. 

“Alright, time to head on!” A manager shouts into the room, and suddenly there’s a flurry of movement as we all head toward the door. “I need all the soulmates to stick to their own groups, ok? We don’t want to be causing a riot today.”

Right. With a gloomy expression, Taehyung parts from me to head back to his members. Jiwoo and I glue ourselves to Ari’s side, much to her chagrin. “Ready?”

Both you and Jiwoo respond simultaneously. “Nope.”

Ari just sighs, feigning annoyance. Together, the three of you await your cue as one by one, your groups are introduced. 

TXT goes first, the hosts making a big deal out of swooning over Soobin who now has a cult of his own due to his MC abilities. They make a show of handing the microphone over to him, begging him to take it over from there. He politely declines, while the rest of the boys bicker and chat in the background. 

Then your group is called out, and you find yourself walking out before a huge crowd. You didn’t realize that many people could fit in this building, but here they are. And all of them are here for the same reason: to get a look at the soulmate couples that have newly formed. 

And that have been trending on Twitter and Tumblr for two solid months, breaking all kinds of records. 

As BTS is introduced with an almost reverent tone, you understand why you’ve been trending for so long.

It has a lot to do with one of the men walking out right now, smiling at the crowd and waving, graciously bowing his way across the stage. 

Taehyung wears a gray casual suit which has him looking like he just stepped off a photoshoot. Hair perfectly styled and eyes glowing with adoration for the fans that roar and wave, he commands the entire room with a single raise of his eyebrows. 

Your soulmate, ladies and gentlemen. 

Today is the day where you prove to the rest of the world how much of a perfect match you are for this man. The notion is terrifying. 

“Wow!” The host, a jovial man named Donghyun shouts out, exaggerating how amazed he is by the crowd’s reaction to all three groups sharing the same stage. Indeed, it’s a rare sight. “Ok! Should we get started?”

After a few minutes of more introductions, a few cursory questions (he asks Yeonjun what he’s been up to recently and you’re pretty sure Jiwoo manages to telepathically threaten him, because he chooses the most vague answer imaginable), and instructions on how to begin the next activities, you’re off to the races. 

Painting races, that it. 

Donning a frock and eyeing the empty canvas before you, you glare at your opponent across the way. Taehyung, to his credit, refrains from winking at you. He thinks you’re adorable when you’re flustered, but now’s not the time. 

“Taehyung-ssi!”

Taehyung blinks up at Donghyun. “Yes?”

“Are you going to let your soulmate win?”

The game is simple: paint the listed object with as much detail as possible in a sixty second period. The others will have to guess what it is. 

Taehyung pouts his lips a bit, glancing over at you with a glint in his eye. “I’ll have to see, I think.”

Donghyun chuckles into the mic, turning to face you. “What about you? If Taehyung-ssi falls behind, will you help him win?”

You wiggle your eyebrows at your soulmate, heart soaring when he delivers a boxy grin. “Oh, of course not. I came to compete, not hold hands.”

The crowd bursts out laughing, and someone yells out, “I’ll hold his hand for you!”

You all dissolve into a fit of laughter at that, your cheeks blushing madly. “Yeah, thanks for the offer,” you say between giggles. Readying your paint brush, you wait for the signal. 

You’ve been given the word ‘Iceland’, which you figure shouldn’t be too hard. 

What you failed to account for was the fact that you’re perhaps the worst painter you know. What should look like a globe looks like a basketball and what should be a cube of ice instead looks like nothing more than a cardboard box. 

In the end, you’re pretty sure you laugh more than you paint. Your team members, consisting of a mix from both teams, look utterly confused at the end product. Eventually it’s Jin - who happens to be on Taehyung’s team - that accidentally calls out the answer. 

The rest of the games pass by in a blur of laughter and covert glances toward Taehyung. He always manages to find a way to make you laugh, even though he remains on the other side of the stage for the most part. You don’t miss all of the fans that look at him dreamily, and you can only hope that they’re happy with your overall performance today. 

At the end, you all squeeze onto a couple of couches. Donghyun makes a fuss over allowing the soulmates to sit together, and you can’t hide your smile as a beet-red Yeonjun sidles down to the couch to sit beside Jiwoo, placing his hands in his lap and trying not to do anything that will go viral. 

Taehyung sits on your right, crossing his arms in a way that pulls on his suit jacket enough to expose the outline of his biceps. You catch your eyes wandering, snapping your attention back to the front where Donghyun reads some questions off of a card. 

“I believe that this was the first time soulmates have met while performing at MAMA, is that correct? What were your first thoughts when you suddenly found yourselves face to face with your soulmate?”

The four of you that now have all the attention riding on your shoulders look to each other for help. Finally, with a racing heart, you answer first.

“I think the obvious answer is that I was shocked,” you smile as knowing chuckles ripple through the room. “But I was also really grateful, because Taehyung was so kind and understanding. The staff were very professional and helped us quickly. Overall, I really can’t imagine it having happened in any other way.”

There’s a few ooh’s and aww’s that greet your ears, but you look down at your lap as you blush. Taehyung slightly nudges your knee with his own, and in that simple movement you feel the comfort that he’s trying to give you. 

“I’d actually been talking to Jiminie earlier about soulmates,” Taehyung pipes up. 

“Oh, yeah! That’s right!” Jimin says, giving his friend a slap on the shoulder. “What are the odds?”

Taehyung flashes a shy smile. “I told him that I felt like I was ready. It can be strangely lonely sometimes, and there are times when I just felt like I was missing something. Now, all I have to do is pick up my phone and my missing piece is on the other side, ready to talk with me.”

Now people are really swooning, you included. You dare to peek over at your soulmate, heart nearly melting when you see that his shy smile is paired with pink cheeks. You wish that you could snuggle up to him right now, but that would definitely not end well. Instead, you lightly nudge his knee with your own, returning the little slice of comfort he provided you earlier. 

“And you two?” Dongyun asks after wiping fake tears away from his eyes. 

Yeonjun chews on his bottom lip, Jiwoo too lost in thought to notice that he has that look again. 

“I, er...” Yeonjun begins, squirming a little in his seat. “I was...really happy.”

Donghyun urges Yeonjun to continue. “Of course you were! What about finding Jiwoo made you so happy?”

Jiwoo looks up in horror, but it’s too late. Yeonjun has already opened his mouth and begun to speak. 

“I was so happy because the first thing she said to me was that she thought I was so hot.”

Radio silence. 

And then-

“Oh-ho!! Yeonjunnie you’re so dead!” Hueningkai laughs, and soon everyone follows suit. Even Donghyun has to throw his hand over his mouth to keep himself from snorting with laughter. 

Jiwoo looks at Yeonjun, who completely avoids her gaze as he stares unblinking at the floor. Then, quietly enough for nobody to hear except for you who sits beside her, she whispers, “Say goodbye to all the perishable items in your fridge.”

In the chaos that ensues, Taehyung discreetly traces circles against your arm and mumbles, “Why didn’t you say that to me when we first met?”

You smack his shoulder. “I should be asking you the same thing!”

Just before everything calms down again, Taehyung leans over to grab the abandoned canvas on the ground. Taking the still-wet paint and dipping his finger into it, he draws something out on it. Nudging you to get your attention, he flashes the canvas for you to see, hiding it from the cameras. 

It’s hard to keep a neutral expression as you see his handiwork. It’s just six words, but they’re enough to have your entire face flushed a moment later. 

I think you’re hotter than Yeonjun ;)

Stifling a laugh, you roll your eyes. “I hope you know I’m keeping that,” you mumble. Taehyung grins.

“Great. We’ll get it framed.”

A few days later, you do. It hangs in the front room of your apartment, for all to see. And for Jiwoo to loathe, as it serves as a constant reminder of her embarrassing first words to her soulmate.

Oh well. In the words of Ari, “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

masterlist

#taehyung x reader #v x reader #v oneshot #taehyung oneshot #bts oneshot #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts soulmate au #taehyung soulmate au #bts fluff #taehyung fluff #txt fluff #txt soulmate au #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun x soulmate #bts sfw

[serpentstole]

Luciferian Challenge: Bonus 2

I combined a few prompts the other day, so this is another bonus prompt entry.

Are there other religions/philosophies that inspire you or influence your path as a Luciferian? Or do you work with other Gods or Spirits?

So obviously Christianity does influence and inspire my Luciferianism. I touched on it a bit in this post, but essentially as someone with a Lutheran upbringing in a culturally Christian country who takes a good chunk of inspiration from Christian folklore... it would be foolish and disingenuous to pretend that I could divorce my Luciferianism from Christianity entirely, and I make no attempts at doing so. While I do not consider myself a Christian, nor my religion to be a branch of it, I do undeniably exist at the fringes of it. 

The spirits that come with that are Eve of course, who I’ve mentioned, and St Expedite, who (at time of writing this) still hasn’t shown any disinterest in continuing our relationship. Though I have a fascination with St Sebastian, I never attempted to reach out to him, and I suspect I never will. St Cyprian of Antioch, however, is someone I’ve considered given his association with magic and necromancy, his time as a pagan, and the nature of his conversion to Christianity. All together I don’t think he’d take issue with me, though I’ve yet to check if the interest is mutual and worth pursuing. At least, not at this time. 

My animism also influences my approach to things, but that’s less a formal religion and more an aspect of one, as it’s a world view that exists in many religions throughout the world. I hope to build up a small gathering of plant allies and teachers when I can, though for a number of reasons this is a bit slow going in my current living situation. Perhaps next year will be when I really explore that. Mandrake is a favourite, as well as mullein, and I’ve also deeply appreciated @graveyarddirt‘s tips and input when it comes to amanita muscaria. 

I’ve also previously mentioned my Dionysian leanings, and as I believe in approaching deities and spirits in the ways that are appropriate to them, there are some Hellenic and Orphic influences to my practice when it comes to those entities. Dionysus is possibly the deity I’ve been most passionate about for the longest, and it came to a point where even as a Luciferian, I couldn’t really ignore it anymore. Incorporating my veneration of him into my practice was a bit of a process, but it’s been working well so far. Eventually I hope to try and round out that side of my path a little more. I’m very drawn to Phanes for what are I’m sure very obvious reasons for anyone who reads this blog, and I’ve been strongly considering approaching Hypnos and Pasithea for a few reasons. Prometheus is also, unsurprisingly, a figure I respect though do not (currently) actively venerate. 

Bizarrely, I have never felt any draw to Hekate. You’d think I would, between her torchbearer epithets and symbolism, the keys and snakes and magic, and how cthonic she is, but it just never clicked for me. I have a great deal of respect and curiosity, but I don’t honestly think I’d ever try to form a relationship with her. 

Please note that I’m speaking of these gods and how I hope to approach them from the mindset of a Luciferian and an occultist. I know that the idea of Hellenic pagans worshiping and venerating the pantheon as a whole with maybe some favoured patrons versus picking and choosing like I have is a topic that’s discussed now and then, but as I said before, I do not actually consider myself a Hellenic pagan… just a Luciferian with Hellenic and Orphic influences. So while I’ll approach Dionysus and the others with the offerings and tone befitting them, it’s within the framework of that Luciferianism.

While it may appear at a glance that these are two disjointed halves or “pantheons” that make up an eclectic whole, they’re very interwoven. To use my interest in medicinal and occult herbalism as an example, as well as my study of veneficium or the poison path, both Azazel and Pasithea make valuable allies in such work: Azazel is a teacher of herbal knowledge, and Pasithea is the Grace/Charity of relaxation, hallucination, and altered states of mind. I also work a great deal with Lucifer for Illumination when it comes to divination, and Dionysus had a connection to Delphi (which he was said to inhabit during the winter months as Apollo went elsewhere) and his cult likely had some influence over the Oracle’s rites shifting from being oneiric to trance based. Though the context changes, the themes, skills, knowledge, and so forth overlap.

The fact that I can intertwine these seemingly disparate deities and practices is a relief to me. Though I speak of allies and partnerships and a working relationship, I’m also just very passionate about and drawn to these deities and spirits, and would likely take a strictly religious approach to them if need be. Finding the thematic similarities between my approach to Luciferianism and the things that draw me to the Greek deities and spirits I appreciate is exciting and vindicating as I go about building my own practice and beliefs. 

#luciferianism #theistic luciferianism #dionysus #30 Day Luciferian Challenge #30dayluciferianchallenge #illumine

[grace-likes-things]

Beside Her

Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

A/N: uhh it’s been a while. Here’s this! And here’s to me posting a random one-shot every two years lmaoooooo. Disclaimer: alternate reality where no one died/left after endgame.

Summary: A mission Peter’s off the job for, and which goes terribly wrong.

Warnings: blood, major character death, this one is v angsty folks.

Word Count: almost 6k 

~~~~~~~

“So, am I alright to go with?”

“No way, Peter. Your sling may be off but your arm can't handle the kind of wear you put it through yet. Give it another day or so.”

Peter sighs, exasperated, “But the mission’s tonight!”

“Nuh, uh, Pete,” my dad cuts in across the room, “You’re staying here, doctor’s orders. I told you we’d check, and we did, and Helen says no.”

“Mr. Stark—!”

“Not me, Helen, you really gonna combat her decision?”

Dr. Cho gives Peter a stern look, having had experience with his impulsively-gained-injuries before. He turns away, ducking his eyes, knowing not to challenge her. 

“Peter it’s fine,” I say, hand on his good shoulder, “You’ll join us on the next one.”

“If—“ my dad buts in, “he doesn't go shatter half the bones in his arm again. And don't go assuming you’ll be on the next one, Y/N, I'm hardly supportive of you coming with tonight as it is.”

I sigh, turning stubbornly towards him as he waltzes out of the room, “I've been training for over 3 years, dad I—“ 

“Nope. Still my kid, don't push your luck. We’re t-minus 1 hour out, so go get ready,” and with that, he turns the corner and leaves. 

“Sorry Pete, better luck next time.” Helen picks up her clipboard and departs, leaving us alone in the room.

I turn to Peter, who’s looking rather defeated about the fact that he won't be allowed on the first mission in three months. I nudge his shoulder playfully, “Hey, think on the bright side, now you get to snoop around the lab uninterrupted for a couple hours.”

He gives me a halfhearted smile, “Yeah? I still wish I could be out there with you.”

His eyes change into an anxious look. I look at him, sympathetic, and grab his hand in mine. 

Since the snap, the fight with Thanos, and almost losing my dad, Peter’s had this protective, premature-guilt complex concerning the people close to him. We got lucky not losing anyone, but I think seeing my dad recover from mourning us and the near-death experience I had in the battle, he’s not really comfortable being separated from us in a fight.

“I know. But it’s relatively minor, from what I’ve heard. I mean — minor enough to convince my dad to let me tag along, so.“

“Yeah, I know. I just hate not being there to have your back.”

I lean into his side, shoving him playfully, “You suggesting I can’t handle myself?”

“Absolutely not,” and I see I’ve forced a grin onto his face, “Just think, ya know, maybe your dad’s had a few too many juice pops lately, and I gotta be concerned — I mean, a gain in weight could throw off his balance in the suit—“ 

“Oh! Throwing my dad under the bus here, are we?” I laugh, “That’s funny, maybe I’ll mention it to him later.”

“Kidding! Don't tell your dad I said he’s fat — he's not.” He hangs onto my hand as I stand from the med-bay bed, “He’s a very fit man, you know, for his age.”

I laugh, “This just gets better and better! I’ll make sure to tell him you think he’s old too after I get ready.” 

I move to walk away, but Peter stops me, tugging my hand gently.

“Hey, but seriously,” he murmurs, “be careful tonight. Come back in one piece for me. Okay?”

“Of course,” I say, and lean my forehead against his, “And you have a fantastically boring night, let your arm rest. Don't get into any trouble.”

He kisses me long and gentle, “I’ll try not to.”

——————

Tonight’s mission was a fairly routine one. One of the lingering branches of Hydra left, hiding in a bunker and planning nothing good. We’d all been briefed on the most recent information about their weapons and tactics, and the team had decided tonight was the time to shut the place down. 

I examine the repulsors in the palms of my suit, sleeker like Peter’s, but armed similarly to my dad’s. There’s about 15 minutes before we fly out, so I tuck my braids beside my neck — getting my hair caught in the helmet seriously blows — and make my way up to the launch pad. 

“Hey, offspring!” my dad plants his hand on my head and shakes it, “You still wanna come along on this one? Sure you don't wanna stay home? Absolutely? Because you know, you’re welcome to, in fact, DUM-E's been missing you down in the lab, i’m sure he’d appreciate your company—“

“Nuh uh, old man, I'm going with. You said so.”

“Oh, so I’m old now? You know, I did end up with an extra five years than you, so you can cut me a little slack.”

I laugh and walk onto the quinjet to meet the team, “Never.”

————————

“You all remember your assignments?” Steve asks, “Me and Sam, Tony and Wanda, Nat and Y/N.”

A chorus of yes’s and nods follow, as if this wasn’t the fourth time we’d answered that question. 

The ride to the bunker is relatively boring, other than my dad pestering me with Stay with nat, and don't get distracted, and be careful, and don’t do anything I would do, and definitely don't do anything Peter would do. Nat and Wanda chuckle at my situation from across the quinjet, and it was getting pretty old by the time we landed a bit outside the target. 

Once we’ve all gotten set with weapons and coms, we start out on the jog to the bunker. Upon arriving there, Nat and I are tasked with stealing a hard drive that contains targets and weapons data. From what we know, it’s in a room close to the center of the building, so we have a long way to go while trying to get noticed as little as possible. 

My dad tells me to stay safe and call for him if needed before we part ways, and Nat and I are alone in a dark hall.

“Alright,” Nat whispers, “We move toward the center of the bunker, 4 floors down, we’ll use the vents if we have to. They might cause a scene somewhere else, but our job is to keep hidden, all the way in and out if we’re lucky.”

“And when are we ever lucky?” I murmur back with a smirk.

“Don’t jinx it, kid, let’s go.”

For the most part, the beginnings of the mission are easy. We used Friday’s heat signatures for a full week to map out the guards’ schedules, so we knew what halls to stick to and when. Making our way to the less-monitored maintenance stairwell, we walk in silence, keeping an ear out for updates over the coms. Just as we reach the bottom of the third flight of stairs, a pair of guards walks through the doors.

“Hello, boys,” Nat says and quickly turns to me, “I’ll take the tall one.”

With that, we spring to action.

The pair raise their weapons toward us, but Nat quickly disarms the man across from her while I blast the gun from the shorter man’s hand and drag him through the doorway before he can reach the alarm on the outside wall. Slamming him into the stair railings, he tries to get rid of me by throwing a headbutt my way, but my suit takes the brunt of the impact. Pulling my arm back and releasing his wrist, I aim a punch square at his face and hear a crack when it lands on his nose. After a disdainful grunt, he shoves me back and tries to kick my legs out from under me, but I quickly grab hold of his ankle and yank up. The man lands harshly on the floor, and one kick is all it takes to knock him out. 

When I look up, Nat has already beat her opponent and is checking the outer hall for more guards. “It’s clear,” she says, and we both take the ankles of the two guards and drag them through the door into the nearest room, tying them up securely before jamming the door in place. 

“I hope they enjoy a nice nap, let’s keep moving,” Natasha says, and we make our way back to the stairwell.

Finally on the fourth lower level, we hold ourselves with a bit more caution. This is where they guard more heavily, and we still have quite a ways to travel before we’re near the center of the building. With light steps, we make our way down the dimly lit halls, occasionally ducking through doorways and turning corners to avoid passing agents, guards and other workers. It seems as if most of the work they do happens down here, as we constantly see high-ranking members and people in lab coats muttering to one another as they roam the halls. I’m only able to catch a few words of any given conversation, and of the ones that were spoken in English, none of them sound pleasant.

Nat and I travel fairly uninterrupted for the next few halls before she stops me and says, “Alright, we’re close to the center now. The hard drive we need is going to be in a lab somewhere around here, so we’re checking rooms. If there are any heat signatures, we clear it together. If Friday doesn’t pick any up, we split and multitask.”

I raise my eyebrows, “Oh? Going against my dad’s orders, huh?”

She gives me a wry smile, “You seem to be able to handle yourself, and it’ll get us out of here faster,” she points at me, “Just don't make me regret it.”

I laugh, “I won’t.”

And with that, we start scanning the upcoming rooms.

The first room we check has a few Hydra agents inside, so we clear it together, check the computers for the right information and come up empty handed, breaking the doorknob and continuing on. We go about this for a while, knocking out the occupied rooms together, splitting up to clear empty rooms, checking for the right hard drive, and moving on. It’s tedious, but no alarms have been activated so far, and we make a good team. 

Now very close to the center of the bunker, we come upon another few rooms free of heat signatures, so we once again divide and conquer. We have to be getting close now.

“I’ll take this one on the left, you’ve got the right?” I ask, walking carefully toward the door.

“Gotcha, call if you find anything.”

I open the large metal door and take a cautious step in, examining the room around me. There are no lights on, so I use a light on my suit to see my surroundings. 

It’s strange, the room is large with high ceilings, but is pretty much empty. A few scraps of metal and packaging are strewn about the floor. Concrete floors and dark walls line the place. I take a few steps further in to double check that I haven’t missed anything, but all I see is one door on the opposite side. I turn back to exit when the entrance I came through slams shut in front of me. Alarmed, I run forward and try to open it, but the handle won't budge.

“Nat!” I whisper hushed through the coms, “The door shut behind me, can you get it from the outside?”

I hear her footsteps approach from the other side and the sound of her trying to open the door, “I can't get it, and the lock must be electric, there’s nothing to pick. How’d this close on you?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t see it.”

I hear a new voice over the coms, “Wait, did you two get separated?” My dad’s voice resounds with a hint of anxiety, “What did we talk about, Y/N? I said to stay with—“ 

“I tried! Not my fault the door shut behind me.”

“Well you should’ve gone through the door with Nat in the first place!”

“Hey!” Natasha’s voice cuts in, “While I would love to listen to you two bicker, we’ve got a job to do. She’s fine, Tony, we’ll figure it out.”

“I could just blast the door handle—“

“No, Y/N, it’ll be too loud, we’ve gotten this far without being noticed.” I hear Nat huff through the door, “It’s in our best interest to keep it that way. Friday’s telling me there’s another door, leads out to a hall. I can go around and meet you there. It's further toward the center, so at least if you have to blast the thing down we’ll be closer to the target.”

“Sounds good, I’ll wait for you,” I say, and with that, Natasha stalks off through the halls. 

I turn to make my way across the room, walking leisurely. This place really is unusually huge for a seemingly-unused underground room, about the size of a school gymnasium. I’m wondering if it may have been used for storage or training when I hear a noise to my left.

Turning swiftly with my guard now up, I see a male guard walk through a side door. Another entrance? How did I miss that? I ready my fists in a fighting stance and call through the coms, “Hey Nat? This room was occupied, I’ve got it handled for now but you might wanna make it here quick.”

Strangely, I get no response, but I don't have time to dwell on that fact because the man is charging toward me.

He’s a good fighter, and we both land some hard hits as we combat to occupy the room. I flip over him and blast him into the wall, but he recovers abnormally quickly and rises up again for more. I land another punch to his stomach once he’s in range, but he quickly grabs my wrist after and squeezes with inhuman strength, crushing the thin-design gauntlet on my hand. The metal cuts into my palm before tear what remains off and launch him over my shoulder onto the floor. I move to kick his side but he grabs my leg and throws me off balance, and my back hits the floor in a harsh slam. Groaning, I try to sit up as the guard grabs a metal pole off the floor — oh shit — and slams it onto my other palm, crushing my second gauntlet. Two hands now bare, aching, and unarmed, I continue to fight at a slight disadvantage. But I’ve trained for years, I can handle this.

It turns out maybe I couldn’t handle it. 

The guard has to be one of Hydra’s human experiments, because he’s stronger than the average adult. I struggle to gain the upper hand for several minutes. He's had me pinned me to the ground, and just when I think his weight is lifting off me he brings down the pole on my side. Hard. 

I groan and curl away. Even through the thin — and now damaged — metal of my suit, the blow took the air out of me. I press my palms to the cold floor to push myself up, but another blow strikes my back and I collapse forward. Finally, the man grabs a fistful of my hair and slams my head into the ground, and a ringing suddenly starts in my ears. Dizzy, head aching, and barely able to think, the next thing I register is being dragged across the room to the opposite wall by my wrists, which are then cuffed in front of me.

And strangely, the guard who put all that effort into beating me walks out of the room.

“Hey!” I shout, “What’s going on, asshole!? Come back here!” But he doesn’t return, and shuts that same side door behind him. I groan in frustration, head still pounding in pain, and try to reach the team again, “Anyone hear me? I’m still in this room, my gauntlets are broken and I'm cuffed, anyone around?” No response, “Hello?”

I’m starting to think Hydra somehow interrupted our signal when another noise distracts me from across the room. 

The door opens once again, and this time five people exit. Four guards and…

Peter.

A chill surges down my spine.

They’re dragging Peter into the room.

“Peter?” I call out, panicked, “Hey! What are you doing with him?”

He’s dressed in plainclothes, so he didn’t come here as Spiderman. He doesn’t look like he’s in the best condition, slumped and hardly fighting the guards who are carrying him to the center of the room. My mind starts racing with all the things they could’ve done — what’s wrong with him? How could they have hurt him so badly he isn't able to fight back, especially with his strength? I need to get him away from them, but if these four guards are anywhere as strong as the last, I need a plan of attack. Or backup. Where is the team?

And how did they get to Peter? Peter Parker, not Spiderman, so not out on the streets — he was supposed to be in the lab tonight. Did they get into the compound? Is anyone else hurt? My mind keeps spiraling into more and more panicked thoughts, and then I hear him.

“Y/N?” He calls out, “Where are we?” His voice is raspy and slurred, and I think they must’ve given him something, some sort of drug. I’m about to call back to him when a guard lifts him up and punches him in the stomach.

“No!” I shout, raising up to my knees and then beginning to stand before one of the four guards points his gun at me. I stay there, kneeling before the scene, not knowing what to do to stop either of us from getting hurt. The three remaining guards begin to beat on him again, kicking and punching and Peter is too delirious to serve any resistance other than curling up and grasping weakly at the ankles of the men hurting him. I can hear his pained whimpers, and my heart squeezes in my chest, I feel tears building in my eyes.

“Stop! Stop hurting him, what do you want?!” I scream, wanting to get closer to him but still at a stand still with the fourth guard, “Come on, tell me what you want! You’re not getting anything by just beating him!”

The three guards pay me no regard, but the fourth, still pointing his gun at me, snickers as if I’ve said something funny.

Peter is still at their mercy, receiving hit after hit and a voice in my head tells me, they’re gonna kill him. You have to do something or they’ll kill him.

“What do you want? Come on, what is it?!” 

And with a heavy accent, the man says, “To cause you misery.”

The chill returns, and I decide — despite my terrible odds — that I have to get them away from Peter. 

I get my feet firmly under me.

I charge toward the guard with the gun, bracing myself.

And he does something I didn’t expect.

He turns the gun on Peter.

I hear three shots.

“NO!” I scream, my eyes go wide and I drop to my knees once again, facing Peter and crawling toward him, “No, no, no, no, no!”

The guards shuffle back into the shadows, laughing, seemingly done with their job, but all I can see is Peter.

I’m frozen for a second, staring, shaking, unable to process the scene before me. He lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling, hands grasping at his chest where blood has begun to pour from three wounds. I race toward him and drop to the ground at his side, placing my cuffed hands firmly over the holes in his chest.

“Peter?” I say, my voice tight and choked, “Hey, hey listen to me, you’re gonna be okay. The rest of the team is here, my dad is here, he's gonna get us out, okay?” A few of my tears leak down onto my hands, running into the blood that now stains them.

“Y/N?” He mumbles, hardly able to speak.

“Yeah, it’s me, I'm so sorry,” I sniff and try to keep my throat from closing up, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop them but you’re gonna be fine, Peter, we’re gonna get help.” 

His face is twisted in pain, and when he tries to speak next, only a cough comes out, and blood bubbles out over his lips.

I fail to hold back a sob and move my hands to his cheeks, “Shh,” I try to get out, but it comes out shaky, like a whimper, “Shh, don’t— don’t try to talk.”

His eyes look into mine, I can see the pain behind them as he lies there, struggling to breathe. I stroke his cheek, and only now come to notice the blood I’ve painted there. I sob again. I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do, I don't know how to help him.

Can I?

Is it too late?

I cradle his head across my thighs, take one of his hands in mine and leave the other on his cheek, trying to provide some sort of comfort.

“I’m sorry, Peter, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” and I just keep saying it, breathing it out and heaving air back into my lungs between sobs. Tears are constantly tracking down my face now, and i’m doing all I can to subdue them while he’s still conscious, still looking at me. 

My mantra of apologies keeps repeating, and my thumb keeps stroking along his cheek, and I don’t know how long I sit there, crying, mumbling, desperately hoping someone comes to help us before I notice him release a slow, defeated breath.

In, out.

“Peter?” I mumble. My blood freezes in my veins. My breath stills. I wait for his chest to rise again. I watch and pray for it to happen. Please, please, please.

It doesn’t move.

A long, whining sob erupts from deep in my chest as I drop my head and cry, and cry, and cry above him, “No, no, no, no. Please, no.”

I sob, loud and painful, unable to take a breath in anymore. I shut my eyes and don't look up because I can't look at his face — his eyes are still open his eyes are still open. 

I’m never gonna see him again,

I’m never gonna hear his voice again, 

I’m never gonna kiss him again.

The pain in my chest gets worse and I feel dizzy with the force of my sobs.

And then suddenly there are arms under mine, and I'm being dragged backwards.

Away from Peter.

“No, no, no, no, let me go! Let me go!” And what i’m saying is barely coherent between the sobs, “Let me stay with him, please, please!” But the arms hooked under me don't relent, no matter how hard I pry at them, no matter how hard I kick and scream. He’s getting farther and farther away from me, alone in that room, and I can't bear the thought of it.

“Please, let me go!”

And suddenly I hear my name, as if through a haze, but I can’t make out who’s saying it. I don't really care. I have to get back to him, I have to stay with him, I can’t leave him alone.

“Y/N— “

“Y/N it’s us! Come on!”

I pull and pull at the hands around me but I can’t remove them, I keep getting pulled backwards until— 

I’m yanked through a doorway, and the room where Peter lies is dark and blank in front of me.

My hearing isn’t fuzzy anymore.

I gasp in surprise but the sobs haven’t stopped, and my father’s unmasked face appears in front of me.

“Y/N? Hey! You’re okay, we’re here!” His hands are on my face but I swat them away.

“No! Peter’s in there! We can't leave him! We have to take him home, we have to get him home—”

“Y/N— “

“Dad they shot him, I couldn’t help him, I couldn’t help him—“ my words dissolve again into cries of grief.

“Y/N he's not in there.”

I turn to him in confusion.

“He is!” I point my hand frantically toward the doorway, “In the middle of the room! They k— they killed him in there!”

“Y/N…” my dad speaks.

And it’s then that I notice my outstretched hand, pointing toward the door.

There’s no blood on it.

I start to shake harder.

“I- I saw it, I saw it happen I— “

And I notice the thin fog rolling out through the doorway, lazily dispersing along the floor.

I look up. I breathe heavy and shakily. The whole team is staring down at my red, tearstained face. Cap’s face is twisted into concern, Natasha looks sad and sympathetic. Hydra agents lie dead or out cold on the ground, alarms blaring, but no one takes any steps to exit. The raid is over…

And I can't see any blood on my hands.

“Y/N, it was a hallucinogen,” my dad says firm, but gently, “Whatever you saw in there wasn’t real.”

I stare at him, trying to make sense of this. It looked so real. It felt so real.

“But— but I saw it— I felt it, I could feel what they did—“ 

He gently breaks the cuffs from my wrists, “I know, I know kiddo, but it wasn’t real. They know how to get in your head.” 

I shake my head in confusion, “But the cuffs? And my gauntlets are broken—?”

“Whoever did that was real.” Nat cut in, “They hurt you so you wouldn't fight the simulation and then the drugs were pumped into the room.”

I sit there on the floor in front of the Avengers. Disbelief, confusion, and grief all playing across my face. 

“Check the room,” I demand.

My dad points a light into it, and Steve walks through, “No one here, see?”

My mind still races, it felt so real.

“Friday?” My dad speaks up, a gentle hand in my hair, “Where’s Peter now?”

“At the compound, sir, working on his suit in your lab.”

I sniff and mumble out, “Vitals?”

“All normal levels.”

I sigh, squeeze my eyes shut, and drop my head into my hands. A sob of leftover panic and relief fights its way out of my chest.

“C’mere,” My dad says, and pulls me closer to him, a soothing arm around my back.

“I need to see him,” I choke out, “I need to know he’s not— “

“I know, I know, we got the job done here, we’re going home.”

——————

I don't remember the walk back out of the compound. It’s all vague reassurances and worrying eyes. I think my dad buckled the straps around me once we got to the quinjet. 

The flight back is somber, quiet, despite the fact that we succeeded. I feel the entire team’s eyes on me, but I don't look up. I’m too busy sitting curled on my seat, staring down at my hands.

There was so much blood. So much of his blood.

I spend the next few hours staring, not speaking, unable to stop the images from replaying in my head. My dad sits beside me, stroking my hair, muttering things I can’t hear.

I thought he was gone. All I can hear are the choked, wet sounds of the blood rising from his throat, all I can see is the stark image of dark red dripping down his pale cheek. Pain in his eyes. His chest refusing to move.

“Y/N,” I think it’s the fourth attempt someone makes to get my attention, and I look up to see my dad kneeling in front of me, “We’re almost back.”

“He’s at the landing pad?” I whisper, my voice hoarse.

My dad takes my hand and says, “Yeah, I had Friday call him up.”

The next thing I’m aware of is the quinjet touching down, and I unbuckle the straps and stand up. My dad rests a reassuring hand on my back, and when the ramp lowers, he walks me forward. He can tell I’m still doubtful. He can tell a part of me still believes what I saw back in that room. 

But then we reach the ground and I see him.

Peter is standing back from the landing pad, accompanied by Pepper. He’s healthy, he’s standing on his own, he’s not bleeding, he’s not hurt, he hasn’t been shot, he’s okay.

He’s not dead.

I pick up the pace, walking out of reach of my dad, and once I’m close enough to see his eyes a sob fights its way up my throat and I throw my arms around his shoulders.

“Hey, shh, it’s alright,” his arms wrap firmly around my back, one hand landing in my hair and one stroking up and down my spine. His hair tickles my cheek, his shirt collar is bent out of shape — he never folds them right. He’s warm and strong and breathing and alive. I bury my face in his neck as another sob wracks through my body.

“What happened?” I hear him ask, confused, and his voice rumbles so low and soothing and I can feel it against my chest, hear it in his throat where my ear is pressed. I can’t stop my cries long enough to answer him but I realize the question wasn’t directed toward me.

“She’s not hurt,” my dad’s voice reassures him, “They messed with her head. She thought — she saw them hurt you—“

“I thought you were dead,” I croak out. My grip on him tightens and I let my hand trail to the curls at the base of his neck, let them twist around my fingers. My voice has risen an octave when I say, “You died, I saw you die.”

We sway for a moment, his hands still running down my back and through my hair, I don't think he knows what to say. I wouldn’t know, either. 

We stay there for a minute, and the rest of the team has walked inside to give us some space, I assume. 

After a while, when my sobs have quelled and I'm just quietly sniffling against him, I feel his hand on my cheek, pulling me back.

“Hey,” He whispers gently, wiping his thumb under my eye to clear away the tears there, “Good thing that wasn’t me then, right? I’m right here. And I’ve got proof— I was talking Dr. Banner’s ear off in the lab the entire time, he can vouch for me,” I let out a watery giggle at his antics, “You wanna go inside? Get you warm, patch you up?”

“Yeah,” I sigh out, disentangling myself from him, but keeping an arm around his side as we walk into the building, “Sorry, I’d give you a hello kiss but I’m pretty sure there’s snot running down my face.”

He chuckles and presses a kiss to the hair at my temple, “That’s okay, let’s get you cleaned up.” 

——————

After a brief period of time, I’ve showered, changed into pajamas, and am now sitting at the bathroom sink where my dad is bandaging the shallow cuts on my hands from the broken gauntlets. We sit in relative silence, and there’s no doubt from the look on my dad’s face that I appear just about as shell shocked as I feel. 

“Kiddo, you gonna be okay tonight?” He asks in a hushed voice. 

I don't look him in the eye, instead watching him work on my hands as I mumble out, “Probably not.”

He huffs with a bit of amusement, “Well, thanks for the honesty, I guess.”

He finishes up on my left hand and raises my chin to look him in the eye. I don't know what to say, so I let him speak first.

“Seriously, Y/N, that was heavy, what you went through. Don’t be afraid to ask any one of us for help, okay?” He looks me pointedly in the eye, already doubting I’ll take him up on that. I am his daughter, after all. 

“Yeah,” I whisper, “Got it.”

He stands with a sigh and puts the first aid kit back under my sink.

“Goodnight, come get me if you need me.” He presses a kiss to my head and leaves.

——————

Tony looks at the clock. 7a.m., three hours after they returned from the mission. 

“Friday? Has Y/N gotten any sleep yet?”

“No, sir. She spent a few hours in the kitchen with Mister Parker, but it appears as if they are both headed to their respective rooms now.”

“Alright. Alert me if she needs help, Fri.”

“Will do, sir. Goodnight.”

——————

“Sir, it appears as if Y/N is in distress.”

Tony wakes up to the alert just forty minutes after he’d laid down to sleep. He's quickly alert and shuffling out of bed, down the hall to his eldest daughter’s room. Although, when he turns the corner he sees Peter already at the door.

The teen looks up at him, “Hey, Mr. Stark. I— Friday told me she needed help. I was just gonna check in.”

“Me too,” Tony sighs, “You go ahead, Pete. It’s you she needs to see right now. Goodnight.”

The man turns to leave, but stops short of turning the corner. He says, tired, but playfully, “Door open, Parker.”

“Gotcha, Mr. Stark,” And the boy walks in to comfort his daughter.

Several hours later, after Tony’s gotten his meager version of a full-night’s sleep, and after a night he’s sure has held several nightmares for his daughter, he walks back past her door to make sure she’s okay.

He smiles warmly at the scene. Wrapped in Peter’s Midtown sweatshirt, his daughter sleeps, restless but quiet, leaning an arm over the boy she loves. He holds her secure, both their legs strewn about the covers, and Tony can't help but notice Y/N’s hand. Resting softly at the side of Peter’s neck, fingers in the hair behind his ear, and her thumb rests just over the boy’s pulse point. Thrumming gently in sleep, reassuring her — even in her unconscious state — that what she saw was fake. Peter is alive and well, sleeping soundly right beside her.

—————

Alrighty that’s it! Let me know how you liked it and thanks for reading!

#Beside her #Peter parker #Peter Parker imagine #marvel imagine #marvel #spiderman #Spiderman imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #peter parker x y/n #Peter Parker x stark!reader #tom holland #avengers #imagine #mcu #Tony stark #dad!tony #stark!reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #Black Widow

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

A Darcy Day Off

As promised, I present ~6,800 words of a sick, miserable Fitz/willi/am Dar/cy. I’ve been working on this on and off for an embarrassingly long time so I’m glad to finally clear it out of my WIP folder to make room for new things. But honestly, it was a pleasure to write, and I hope some of you take pleasure in reading it as well!

Definitely he first chapter, and honestly the first 2 chapters are mostly exposition, so if you want to skip straight to the sickfic goodness and reduce the word count, head to chapter 3. But I had fun writing (and worked hard on) the banter and conversation in the beginning, so I opted to keep it. 

( @chezsnez @empresskaze @groundcontrol21 you all asked so nicely, so I hope this is what you were looking for! )

1.

“Darcy, dear, what’s keeping you? I thought we were to meet in the library for tea,” Elizabeth called. She found him still in his study, hunched over the desk. She danced to his side, planting a kiss atop his head. He leaned against her briefly in greeting.

“I’m sorry, my dear. I had more business to attend to today than I’d realized. Just finishing up now.” He rubbed his eyes tiredly, then his nose, trying to be rid of a tickle that had been infuriating him all day.

“Always at your work. I wonder our estate isn’t the finest run in Britain. And here I used to think people of high class such as yourself worried for nothing but amusing themselves all day.” She gently rubbed his neck where she knew he always got an ache when he wrote. He kissed her hand fondly.

“You are of such a class, too, now, my love. And how do you know it isn’t the finest? I’d be willing to wager a year’s salary this estate could be measured against parliament’s own estates and be proven worthy, if I have anything to say about it.”

“You pour your very soul into all that goes on here, and it’s one of the many things I adore about you. I am proud every day to be the mistress of such an estate. Only I wish you wouldn’t work so hard and take more time to enjoy the fruits of your labor.”

“Are you accusing me of ignoring you, dearest? Only say the word and I would throw all my responsibilities to the winds and devote myself fully to your entertainment.” 

He kept his tone light and playful, teasing her, but looked at her closely even as he did. Had he been neglecting her too much of late? He had had several pressing business matters on his mind these last weeks, and he knew he had been at his desk more than usual. Lizzie had not complained of course, and had been nothing but supportive and helpful, but the last thing he would ever want to do is make her doubt where his priorities lay, namely that she was foremost in his mind and heart, and in all things.

“Not at all, for you well know I’m quite fond of my own company. However, I can't help but worry about you. You put too much responsibility on yourself; you are positively careworn these days. I only wish your more lighthearted side could see the light of day now and again, and not just when we’re alone.”

“I am my truest self when I’m with you.” He kissed her hand again, then rubbed his nose. “I will always struggle being lighthearted while working. The two have never gone hand in hand in my experience; gravity and soberness were expected whilst doing business in my growing years under my father, and others. All the more reason I have need of your influence.” 

She kissed his head again. “Very well, I accept the mantle of helping you find levity in your working hours. If only so that the strain you put on yourself will not affect your health. You put on a casual, careless demeanor in public, but I know better. You bear the weight of the world on those broad shoulders of yours, and that is a burden no man is meant to carry, even by his own choice. So come now, and join your wife for tea. The letters can wait another hour or so, surely.

“Indeed they can.” He stood and stretched stiffly. The chill winter wind howled outside and the sound made him shiver, glad for the roaring heat from the fire nearby, and in every room in the house as he moved to escort his wife to the library. 

~~~~~~~~~~

The couple spent a pleasant hour or two in their favorite room in the house, chatting warmly at times, and sitting in comfortable silence at others. The relentless wind made Darcy feel sleepy and lazy, and he wanted nothing more than to take his wife’s advice and take the rest of the day to relax. He would have been content to remain here for the rest of the evening with his favorite person and simply read and chat and perhaps nap. But he had two more letters that needed to make the post tomorrow, and if he did not finish them now, he never would. He stood quietly and brushed his lips across his wife’s cheek. She nuzzled back, then watched as he lingered before the library fire longer than necessary, warming his hands and rear.

“Are you all right, my dear?” she asked.

“Oh, yes. I’ve developed a slight headache is all, and it makes the task of my remaining letters all the more daunting.”

“I can imagine. I wish you would take a day off sometime soon, so that you may rest for longer than a few hours at a stretch. I believe it would do you wonders. Winter is generally a time for peaceful contemplation, but it’s been a frenzy of activity for you these past months. You are overdue for some leisure, my love.”

“You are right, as usual. Sometime very soon, dearest, I will take a week or two off and we will spend all the leisurely hours together you could wish. Perhaps we’ll even have a romp outside in the snow. Within the next month, once this mess is more or less cleaned up. Would that suit you?”

“It would suit me very fine indeed. While you could never be accused of neglecting me, I have been missing my husband of late, most especially his smile. That has been the most absent part of you.”

“For that I am sorry. I don’t like to bring my business affairs into our life together. My lovely, patient wife. You are too good to me.

“Well and I could say the same of you, so there. Enough of that. Come kiss me again, then go to your work before you fall asleep standing up.”

“As you command.” He was truly in danger of this, as he felt his lids growing heavier all the time, so he forced himself to move away from the pleasant heat, going to her side and kissing her fully this time, savoring her sweet lips before reluctantly pulling away. “Away I go. See you soon, darling.”

 Mr. Darcy could not rid himself of the clinging fatigue for the rest of the evening. His remaining letters took longer than usual, and he knew they were not as well done as they ought to be, but at least they were done. When they were finished, he tossed his pen aside eagerly and stretched his stiff neck. Perhaps he should take those leisure days sooner rather than later. He really hadn’t been feeling his best lately, and the wintery weather that had had them in its grasp for weeks certainly wasn’t helping. Also, he missed his wife, though he had just seen her. He missed spending time with her, and not just in stolen hours here and there. 

Right now all he wanted was to curl up beside her in bed, and talk of sweet nothings, and perhaps make sweet love. Hopefully that would help shake this irritating headache. Yes, they were long overdue for quality time spent together. He would make arrangements for some time away immediately, hopefully as early as a fortnight from now. The thought immediately made him calmer as he finished up a few small things, then hurried to find her and begin the more pleasant part of the evening.

2.

“Heh-KERRR-CHOOOOO! Heh- heh- KITSHHH’CHOOOO”

A bellowing sneeze startled Elizabeth from her book the next morning, and the even louder one that followed caused her to go investigate it’s source. To her surprise, following the sound of the miserable sniffles led to her husband’s study, where she found him ineffectually wiping his dripping nose with an already-damp handkerchief. 

“My dear Mr. Darcy, is that you making all that racket? My heavens, bless you! I don’t know as I’ve ever heard a sneeze so resounding in all my life. Were you holding it in all morning for it to grow to such a volume?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he sniffled sourly. “It was merely a sneeze.”

She quirked an eyebrow, amused. “I would beg to argue. You sneeze particularly violently, my dear. Likely because, as I noted, you hold them in until you can’t anymore.”

“Well, since you are evidently the expert,” he muttered as he pressed on with his work, coughing softly. 

She rarely saw this severe, prickly side of him these days, and this, more than anything else, concerned her and made her know he shouldn’t be teased at present. He really must be feeling poorly. She moved to his side and pressed against him as she had the day before, rubbing his shoulder. He did not respond, physically or otherwise.

“You are unwell, my love. You should go take some rest. You quite look as if you have gotten the wrong end of this cold of a sudden.”

“I am fine. Don’t worry yourself. I am only in need of some tea and I shall be quite well.”

“I’d be happy to fetch you tea, but I’d be happier to fetch it for you in bed, or at least in your chair in the library. I fear these large windows will do you no favors with the draft.”

“I have many things I need to see to today. I cannot take time to rest. And all my files are here in the study. I haven’t been ill since I was a boy. I’m certainly not going to be ill now.”

Lizzie sighed and shook her head at the foolishness of males. “Have it your way, then. I’ll see you get some tea. Was there anything else you’d like?”

“Just a scone or two. Thank you, dearest.” He finally turned his gaze to her, and she saw true gratitude there, despite the reddened, watery eyes and dripping nose. “And forgive my rudeness when you came in. You startled me, but I should not speak to you like that. Please forgive me.”

“Of course you’re forgiven, and I am sorry I startled you. You know I only worry about you because I love you.”

“As I love you, my Lizzie.” He coughed wetly into his handkerchief. “Now please, if you’d leave me. I really do have much to do, and you are ever my truest distraction. I will see you this evening. And please know, I am doing all this so that we can have our time together very soon.”

“Yes, my dear.” She sighed softly and made her way out, stopping one of the servants to request her husband’s tea and scones. She gave explicit instructions for the type of tea and what was to be in it, things to soothe an aching throat and ward off fever. If he wouldn’t have a care for his own body, she would be forced to do it for him. She only hoped he would see reason sooner than later and take himself off to bed before he caught his death in that drafty study.

~~~~~~~~~~

Of course, Darcy was endlessly studious and conscientious, not to mention stubborn, and so he stayed in his study, or was running around with different servants and community members all day. He did his best to conduct his business as excellently as ever, despite how very unwell he was beginning to feel.

When their paths would cross later in the day though, she could see he was flagging. His cough had become quite the nuisance, and his nose and lips were raw and chapped. Dark circles began to show under his eyes, vivid against sickly pallor. Every now and again, she heard a massive, wet sneeze disturb the air from wherever he was. She gave him sympathetic smiles and little encouragements whenever she could, but what she truly wanted was to see him to bed and tend to his every need there. The misery on his face made her ache for him. If only he wasn’t so proud. And yes, stubborn.

She was quite relieved when he joined her at their evening meal, wearily announcing he was done working for the day, and she told him such. He was quiet and withdrawn for the remainder of the evening, aside from his frequent sniffles and coughs, and the occasional explosive sneeze, which never failed to make her jump, even as they became more and more frequent. 

Taking his lead, she also said very little, reading exhaustion in every line of his frame, especially as his sneezes and coughs harshened. If she had been another woman, and he another man (indeed, her parents came to mind), she would have said again that she wished he would take the day off tomorrow. But it was not in her to nag, and if she had he would only have become angry, or withdrawn completely. She had said her part this morning, and she knew he had heard her and remembered. What he did from here was his choice alone. 

She watched him unobtrusively as he dozed by the fire that evening, feeling such love in her breast for her dedicated, hardworking husband, but no small amount of worry either. They had been married nearly three years, and she had never once seen him ill. She hoped it was truly only trifling, as he kept insisting it was whenever anyone asked. 

They went to bed earlier than usual, her feigning equal tiredness for his sake, so he wouldn’t feel he was being a burden. But indeed, all she wanted of the rest of this day was to lie beside him in bed, perhaps rub his back, and just be near him for whatever he needed. To her delight, that is exactly what happened. He said very little, and asked for nothing, stifling sneezes now and again even as his frequent, chesty coughing fits worsened, but merely lay beside her and let her rub away at his aches and chills as he fell asleep.

3.

Darcy and Eliza were both early risers, and both loved to greet the day while it was still fresh and full of promise. Being the man though, Mr. Darcy was always up and about before his wife, for it took him far less time to dress, and there were several things he liked to see to before breakfast, though he never neglected to kiss her goodbye as he left.

Imagine her surprise then, when the next morning found him still soundly asleep beside her when her maids came in to help her dress at their usual time. The sound of their arrival woke her, but her poor husband hardly stirred. She hurried out of bed, calming the poor, startled ladies in hushed tones, assuring them they had done no wrong. They helped her dress and fix her hair simply and comfortably before Elizabeth shooed them out again, saying she wasn’t sure what they should tell the other staff, as she had no idea what mind her husband would be in when he finally woke. 

Lizzie sighed as they left. Now it would be all over the house that he was sick abed, and who knew what other irrepressible rumors. He would hate that. However, at present it was the truth so he would just have to deal with it whenever he woke. In the meantime, she picked up her book and read in the chair by the fire, wanting to be close when he woke.

That turned out to be shortly thereafter. He first began to toss and turn a bit, then he started to cough, then he nearly made her jump out of her chair with one of his tremendous sneezes. 

“Heh -KER- CHUUUUHHF!” The noise was thick and miserable-sounding, more than hinting at painfully clogged sinuses and a raw, scratchy throat. While he was mopping the mess from his face with his handkerchief, his lungs decided to take their turn at clearing themselves as well, and he erupted into a series of wet, strenuous coughs. 

She made her way to his side during this sad display, gently stroking his tousled hair as he quieted. He groaned softly when he was able and pressed into her embrace, still holding the handkerchief to his nose, eliciting a cluck of sympathy from his wife at his sorry state.

“My poor dear,” she murmured. “Your health is much worse this morning.”

“Mby head is like a lead weight od the pillow,” he croaked. “Fatigue weighs dowd mby limbs dreadfully.”

“Then you will not work today?”

“Mby wise wife advised that I look after mby body more, and today mby body tells mbe I must rest, so rest I shall,” he murmured sleepily. “As long as you’ll keeb mbe company?”

“I would love nothing more. This is perhaps not the leisurely day we had hoped for, but I’ll accept it just the same." She tenderly caressed his cheek, frowning as she felt it. "You are terribly feverish, darling." Yet she hardly needed to feel, for just by looking at his flushed, sweaty face and seeing him shake with chills, the fever made its presence known.

"And yet I'mb chilled to the bone. I had forgotten how beastly udpleasant it is to catch cold," he rasped with a thick sniffle.

"Indeed, it makes one feel for your poor sister all the more. It seems she is laid up with a cold every other week. Now, how does tea appeal to you? And perhaps some food? You hardly touched supper last night."

"Tea would be lovely. Mby abbetite still eludes me however. But, if only to please you, I would try sumb toast and an egg."

Lizzie had servants running for his requests in short order while Darcy tended to his nose, blowing it over and over, soaking through more than one handkerchief. His tray was delivered in record time. Seeing it arrive, Darcy slowly levered himself to a sitting position, pressing a hand to his temple.

"Mby head is throbbi'g," he mumbled.

Elizabeth pressed the cup of tea into his hands, looking sympathetic. "Drink some. It may help your head."

He did as he was bid, drawing his knees to his chest like a boy as he drank while she rubbed his back. However, another tremendous sneeze almost made him spill the whole thing. 

“Ah- ah- KITCHSHOOOOO! Ugh…” He sought his handkerchief desperately, and when Elizabeth handed it to him, he pressed it harshly against his streaming nose to stem the flow, groaning as he did. Elizabeth hastily took the teacup from his again, for it seemed in danger of being upended at any moment.

"Bless you! My poor dear, what can I do for you? Besides keeping a stack of handkerchiefs here for your poor nose."

"I would ask you to help mbe dress in a few moments," he said, his voice muffled behind the fabric as he tried to rub away the headache between his eyes. "While I will be as quick as I cad, I must speak to mby steward and give hib sumb idstructions for mby absence."

"Can you not write him instead? I fear for you going out in the cold, lest this settles in your chest."

"Mby head aches too miserably to do a probber job with writing. I fear I would forget somethi'g crucial. Ndo, I'll quickly  go dowd and speak to hib, and thed I'll return. Ndo going outside for mbe today, never fear."

She sighed and nodded, knowing he would not be dissuaded. "At least finish your tea and try some egg before you go so you don't collapse on the stairs."

"I'mb far from collapse mby dear, I assure you." His general appearance said otherwise though, as he had been miserably coughing into his handkerchief throughout the whole conversation, and had yet to stop shivering. However, she held her tongue and served him breakfast instead. 

Lizzie saw he made an effort to eat as much as he could, and though it was only a few bites, she was slightly placated. She knew he would not relax until he had set what affairs he could in order. So, after his tea was gone, when he rose and began to dress, she assisted him, for she realized the sooner he left, the sooner he would return.

"I'd rather not ri'g for mby valet, as I'd be worried I would sdeeze on hib," muttered Darcy, looking embarrassed as she straightened his jacket while he futilely tried to blow his nose, which only served to make him cough yet again.

"It's no trouble at all, dear. Only please hurry back. I truly worry for that cough." 

"I'll be back under your watchful eye as quick as I cad, dearest," he murmured, grazing her ear with his lips as she slipped an extra handkerchief in his pocket. With that, he was gone, his boots thumping down the hall wearily.

~~~~~~~~~~

Time dragged as she waited for him. While she knew he could take care of himself and she didn't need to be here the moment he returned, she also knew he would want her to be. Her husband was a strong man, but at times like these, he depended on her, and she was not about to disappoint him. So, while there were plenty of things she could have seen to around the manor herself, she waited in his sitting room with her needlework, keeping the fire high. 

Finally she heard him in the hall. She rushed to open the door as he shuffled in, looking spent. 

 "Darcy dear! I expected you an hour ago!"  she said, helping him shed his coat. Suddenly she felt his shoulders hitch under her hands as his breath scissored:

"Ktt-tsshhEEW!" The wet spraying sneeze was his response, only partially stifled by the sodden handkerchief he held. She blessed him worriedly as he again mopped his face.

"I'mb sorry, dearest," he finally managed. "I was stobbed many tibes between mby study and here to answer questions. I cabe as quick as I could."

He fell wearily into the chair nearest the fire with a deep groan and a deeper cough. He bent to try and remove his boots, but his efforts were hampered, as his nose streamed dreadfully if he bent over. He had to keep a hand pressed to his face as he tried to undo the fastenings with the other. 

Elizabeth knelt in front of him and gently pushed his hands away, loosening and removing the boots herself as he leaned back in the chair, sniffling wetly. 

"Thagk you, mby love," he croaked. 

"Here, have some more tea, I've just had Mary bring some. There, now what suits you best? Shall we cover you warmly and sit here by the fire, or would you like me to fetch you some soup? I won't ask if you want to call for Dr. Bishop yet since I know what you'll say, though I have half a mind to."

"There's ndo need for the doctor," replied her husband. "Whad I most want right now is to lie dowd and sleeb sumb few hours yed. Mby mind is sluggish. I cad hardly grasp on a thought except how exhausted I amb."

"Then take my arm and let's get you to bed, poor man. I imagine some more sleep will do wonders for you."

"I don't need help walki'g mby dear, I'm not invalid, only full of cold." Even still, he took her proffered arm as he stood and rested a hand on her shoulder warmly as she led him to the bedroom.

"That may be, but I'll see you there myself just the same to make sure there's no distractions along the way." She kissed his hand and caressed it fondly as they made their way to the bed. She helped him remove all the clothes she had helped him don not long before and replace them with his nightshirt. While he clearly needed to sleep, he also seemed loath to let her out of his sight. He remained sitting on the edge of the bed for a moment with her pressed against his side. She scratched his back fondly. 

“You should lie down, dear. You’re more asleep than awake.”

Instead, he wrapped his arms around her unexpectedly, burying his face in her abdomen with a weary sigh. Elizabeth was slightly startled, but gladly reciprocated the embrace, burying her face in his hair. Her husband was an affectionate man, but not usually physically so. This gesture from him, while not at all unwelcome, was unexpected. 

“I feel terrible,” he groaned, barely audible, leaning most of his weight against her. “Mby body runs amok with mbe.”

“So it seems. I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t wish this cold of yours on anyone.”  

She held him for a few peaceful moments. Just as she was about to again suggest he lie down, for it seemed he was in danger of falling asleep against her, his back twitched violently and he tried to pull away.

“heh-GIHH’CHOOOO! Hehht-kk’CHOOOOOF!” 

Neither had time to react as poor Mr. Darcy sneezed thickly, his face still pressed against his startled wife. She couldn't suppress a little gasp as he pulled away, stammering apologies and wiping his traitorous nose. 

She was silent a moment appraising the state of her dress, then an unladylike snort of laughter escaped her, sending her into a little fit of giggles even as she comforted her overwrought husband, pressing him gently back against the pillows. 

“It’s all right, my love. Such things happen. ‘Tis only a dress, and I have plenty more. It seems neither of us are coming away from this cold of yours unscathed. But there now, you’re completely spent. You can hardly keep your eyes open, red as they are. Take some more rest, my love.”

“You’re too good to mbe,” he croaked, fighting against his heavy eyelids but already nearly asleep, the handkerchief still in his limp hand on the bed.

She reached out, caressing his face and brushing hair from his brow. “No more of that. Close your eyes and sleep, for how else do you expect to get better?” She clucked her tongue softly again. “You really are painfully warm, poor man. It is most worrisome,” she said, more to herself than him.

“I’ll be alright,” he mumbled, the last word turning into a snore as he finally gave in to the needs of his body.

~~~~~~~~~~

4.

That was to be the last interaction Mr. Darcy would remember for quite some time. He fell into a deep sleep then, and everything that happened over the next few days would be blurred flashes in his mind at best, hazed by illness and fever.

Of course, the same could not be said for Elizabeth. After he fell asleep, she left him and tended to some of her duties around the manor (after changing her gown, naturally). She did not want to hover in the sickroom, both for her sake and his, so she forced herself to stay away for several hours, knowing he would ring if he needed something.

Still, in the late afternoon she returned, unable to stay away any longer. He was exactly as she had left him, snoring softly. He didn’t seem to have moved at all in his sleep, which was most unlike him. She again went to feel his forehead, sensing something amiss. He was much warmer than before. A knot of worry pulsing in her heart, she tried to shake him awake. He opened his eyes and seemed to look at her, but she could tell he wasn’t truly awake, and didn’t respond when she spoke to him, only grunted and coughed, trying to roll over and sleep again. 

Without further ado, she sent for Doctor Bishop, pacing the halls outside Darcy’s rooms until he arrived, wringing her hands in worry and opening the door to check on her husband every few minutes, to ensure he got no worse.  

The doctor arrived quickly, heading right into the sickroom. He did a thorough examination, listening to Mr. Darcy’s heart and lungs, checking his pulse and 100 other things. Darcy woke briefly a few times, but only managed answers of a word or less before he dozed off again. His large frame looked somehow both bigger and smaller than it should, curled up limply on the bed, with only his breathing as evidence of life. After he was through, the wise doctor scrutinized his patient, deep in thought. Elizabeth remained silent, waiting with baited breath. Finally the doctor turned to her. 

“You said he’s been overworking himself and run down lately, yes?”

“Yes, doctor. Business has been troubling him of late.”

“Hm. So it seems. Well, overall his vital signs are normal for a man with a cold. I see nothing overly alarming, excepting the high fever. That is a touch worrisome, but can at times be seen in such cases. No, I don’t fear any illness has befallen him except what you’ve said, a bad cold. I think he’s simply exhausted, and this cold has caught up with him and brought everything down at once. I’ll wager the fever will subside in a day or two, and the rest in the days after that as long as he gets the rest he sorely needs. I shan’t prescribe him anything except what he already has here with you, Mrs. Darcy. Let him sleep as much as he wants, keep him hydrated and don’t cover him too warmly, and I think this will run its course soon enough.”

It was as if great weight fell off her shoulders as he spoke. “Oh, thank you doctor! Indeed, I shall do just as you say, and make sure he does as well.”

“Please do. The stubbornness of the Darcys is well known to me, for my father and his father have been treating this family for generations. I’ll come round to see him every day until I’m satisfied he’s on the mend, if that suits you.”

“Oh, yes please, and thank you kindly. You have my deepest gratitude, sir.”

“My pleasure, madame. Until tomorrow.” He tipped his hat and was gone.

With a huge sigh of relief, Elizabeth collapsed on the chair at her husband’s bedside. After a moment, she found his hand under the quilt and held it, needing to feel his touch, even if in unconsciousness. After a moment, he unexpectedly squeezed it. She looked up to see his eyes were fluttering closed, but his face was angled toward her now. She took a moment to appreciate that fine face, though currently his nose, cheeks, and eyes were matching shades of red against the sickly pallor over the rest of him.

She sighed and softly kissed his hand. “Get well soon, my dear.”

He certainly took his time doing so, or so it seemed to Eliza. Either she or Georgiana were at his side at all times. He slept constantly, barely waking even to drink water. He spoke hardly at all and asked for nothing. He would intermittently shake with chills, or else sweat profusely. He sneezed in thick, messy fits, several at a time, but then would go hours between, until the sensation again overpowered and woke him. He coughed more often, since that it seemed he could do even as he slept. 

Yes, he slept, but he was overall restless. Noise in the room roused him. He stirred when he was touched. He stirred when he coughed. He woke when he sneezed. His sleep didn’t seem peaceful, which was perhaps why he never fully woke, because he wasn’t fully resting. 

The first night, Elizabeth slept in her own rarely-used bedroom (she much preferred sharing his), wanting him (and herself) to rest as much as possible. The second night though, she was achingly lonely, missing his touch, his voice, and his smile. So, she crawled into her usual place beside him in his bed, pressing herself against him. She found herself cold, as she had been since he was ill from the worry, so his warmth was more than pleasant. 

She herself relaxed immediately as soon as she was against him, but more surprisingly, so did he. He didn’t wake and hardly stirred when he felt her, but his breathing quickly deepened and he relaxed more fully as they rested against each other. Basking in the sensation of enjoying one another’s touch, they both slept the whole night that way. 

~~~~~~~~~~

More than 48 hours after he first fell asleep, Darcy finally woke up completely. Naturally, it was a sneeze that did it. 

“Heh’gihh’CHUUUHFF! AHHGK-CHOOOF! … ow….”

Something in the tone made Lizzie turn. She had been sitting facing the fire with her needlework, but glancing at the bed, she saw her husband sitting up, one hand to his temple, the other wiping his nose, and looking aware of his surroundings for the first time in 2 days. She dashed to his side, feeling his forehead at once.

“Bless you, dear. My, but it’s good to see you awake! Oh, and your fever is much decreased, how wonderful! How do you feel? Is your head hurting you? Here, drink some water, the doctor said you’re likely dehydrated…”

She wanted to prattle on, but she saw he was a bit overwhelmed, so she forced her tongue to be still. She gently grasped his hands, to calm him as well as herself, and kissed them fondly. She then handed him a glass of water, and he drank gratefully as she looked him over. He seemed a bit better, but he continued to look around in a dazed way.”

“Have I been asleeb long?” he finally rasped, his voice totally gone, and still stuffed tight with congestion.

“I would say so. It’s been two days darling.” She did her best to keep the worry and accusation out of her voice. He couldn’t help that he’d been ill.”

“Two days?! Good heavens.” He fell back against the pillows with a groan and a cough. “Ndo wonder I feel so sluggish.”

“Yes, but it seems you needed it. The doctor has been out every day, and he says you were suffering from exhaustion. Your body was taking the rest it sorely needed.”

“So it seebs.” He rubbed his eyes wearily.

“How are you feeling? Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Sumb better, I thingk,” he said with a wet sniffle. “Less fevered. I am still weary, and will sleep another night soundly through, but I hope I’m on the mend now.”

“As do I.” She kissed his hand again, squeezing it tightly.

~~~~~~~~~~

5.

Mr. Darcy was indeed on the mend. He was moving about his rooms freely the next day, and 2 days after that, he was allowed by the doctor (and his wife, grudgingly) to resume his duties, though at a reduced basis, for his cough still lingered, along with some fatigue. Yet he was incredibly cheerful to be leaving his rooms, and everywhere he went, he had a spring in his step.

That same day he was freed found Elizabeth curled on the settee in her rarely-used personal sitting room, wrapped in a coverlet and trying to read. However, her dripping nose and throbbing headache prevented her from making much progress in the story. 

A barking cough burst out of her against her will, making her drop her book. With a feeble groan, she reached down to retrieve it, holding a handkerchief to her streaming nose. She had known she likely wouldn’t escape catching her husband’s cold, but that didn’t make it any less unpleasant. However, she was not about to spoil his first day of freedom with her own illness, so she was hiding here to avoid him as long as she could.

Just as she was thinking this, she heard his boots in the hall, and she suppressed another groan. He knocked softly, then peeked in the door, looking happy as well as confused when he saw her.

“Mary said I might find you here, but I thought she must be mistaken. Whatever are you doing? I was hoping to meet you for tea.”

She took a breath to answer, but instead the urge to sneeze snuck up on her. She shoved her elbow against her face, turning away from him to stifle the stubborn urge harshly:

“HXXT’GH! HNNKT! HXXTCH! Guh…” she mumbled at the end, which turned into a painful cough that she hardly had breath for.

Darcy was at her side in a moment, kneeling by her arm and feeling her forehead just as she had his so many times the past few days. Concern and regret crossed his face. “You have a fever, dearest. It seems I’ve shared my cold with you,” he said, stifling a little cough.

“You always were the gentleman, never failing to share with a lady,” she groused weakly.

His low chuckle was warm. “I’m truly sorry. Yet I heard you hardly left the bedchamber while I was ill, so I suppose it was inevitable.”

“Especially since you sneezed on me,” she mumbled, trying not to smile.

“Indeed,” he chuckled again. “I’m sorry for that as well. But now, enough talk. Rest your voice. Come up to bed and I’ll see you get some tea and toast.”

“Perhaps I don’t want to go to bed, did that occur to you? I’ve spent all week in that bedchamber and I’d prefer to not be forced to go back,” she muttered petulantly. 

“I can tell you’re feeling unwell, for you’re never so irritable. That more than anything tells me I must see you to bed immediately.” His tone indicated some teasing, but mostly seriousness. Without further ado, he scooped her up in one motion and stood, carrying her toward their bedchamber, a little smile playing around his lips. 

“Why you--! I’ve never been thus treated in my entire life. Put me down, you terrible man!” Yet she couldn’t keep from laughing, miserable though she was, which of course turned into a cough. She hadn’t felt so ill in a long time. In fact, the overwhelming urge to sneeze was coming over her again. She struggled weakly to free her arms from where he had them pinned, but it was too late: 

“Hhh’rrrrushh’eeeew! Herrr’CHEW! Hihhh’knn’CHOOF!” She sneezed explosively against his chest, covering them both in the spray. His steps paused as he looked down at her, open-mouthed, while she stared back, reddening in embarrassment, but slightly triumphant.

“...bless you, my Lizzie,” Darcy finally said, an odd smile on his face.

“Thank you. I’m terribly sorry!... But what choice did I have, when I can’t move my arms? Now we’re even, I suppose.”

“Indeed,” he chuckled again as he resumed walking. “And I suppose if you must sneeze on someone, it’s best if it’s me, as I can’t very well catch this cold again. But all the more reason for me to see you to bed. You look a mess. In the loveliest possible way, of course.”

“How charming you are, Mr. Darcy. You have quite a way of flattering a woman.”

He chuckled again, but by this time they had reached his bedchamber. He deposited her on the bed with the utmost gentleness, and proceeded to assist her in changing into more comfortable clothes. She shivered miserably as she changed so that her teeth nearly chattered. Darcy tucked her in warmly and quickly rang for some tea, then began to remove his own boots and coat. She watched him curiously, though with heavy eyes, for she suddenly she found herself exhausted. With pleasure she realized he planned to join her in bed. 

He did just that a few moments later, pulling her close against himself and wrapping her in his big, warm arms. She nuzzled in gratefully with a sniffle and a cough. He buried his face in her hair as they settled, coughing as well. 

“What are you doing, Darcy dear? I thought you had many things to do today,” she mumbled, already nearing sleep. “You’ve had so many days off yourself. You needn’t take another for me, though it seems we’re quite a mess still.”

“This has become the most important thing I must do today,” he yawned. “You were a saint to look after me this whole week, so now I must return the favor. I’m not likely to let an opportunity pass to spend time with you after these past weeks, for I’ve learned my lesson.  And I too am already weary, for this cold hasn’t quite left me. A nap would suit me fine, especially if I can warm you in the process.” 

When a servant arrived with tea, no one greeted him, and when he opened the door with the tray, he found it best to simply leave it nearby and duck out again, for Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were fast asleep. 

#sickfic #Sickness #sicknario #snzfic #snzblr #snzario #everyone is hotter with a fever #especially fitz/william dar/cy